Distilled
by Domicile
Summary: “But I’d have a shot with you? If I liked you, I mean.” It’s taking everything you have to keep the desperation out of your voice. Cam
1. Chapter 1

"Do you think maybe you and I could be something great?"

You don't know how you get stapled in the middle of awkward situations, but it always happens. You just had to pause in the hallway two days after Freddie kissed you, and he just had to follow you.

He's standing only about a foot away from you, leaning into the wall and staring earnestly at the back of your head. He doesn't sound scared or anything, which surprises you based on the freak-out going on in your body.

You spin idly on your toes to look at him, but you don't want to. You want to pretend like you had missed his words and continue down the stairs and on your way home. Something is stopping you from leaving, though, and you aren't really sure what it is, but you stay. His hands are in the pockets of his blue jeans, the t-shirt Carly bought him for his birthday plastered across his chest. He's grown up an awful lot since you first met him, hasn't he?

"What?" You hiss at him.

He sighs, pushing off the wall to step closer to you. "I think we should go on a date." He states with a shrug.

"You and me?" You mutter, brow furrowed.

He nods. "Me and you."

"Is this because of that kiss?" You demand of him. "Cuz that was nothing, remember?"

He shrugs again. "It could be something."

You eye him for a moment, trying to figure out his angle. "You're playing with me, right Fredward?"

Freddie steps closer still, snatching your hand with both of his. "I'm serious."

"Liar." You accuse. "You're not nervous or anything."

"Why should I be? What's the worse that can happen? You say no? You hit me?" He smirks. "Been there, done that."

"And what makes you think I'd want to go on a date with you?"

"I don't know." His thumb brushes your fingers over and over. "I thought I'd give it a shot. I want to kiss you again."

You don't blush. You never blush. Shit. You're blushing. "I don't want to date you." You say, but he only grins.

"Than how about just that kiss?"

He yanks on your hand to drag you close and attaches his mouth to yours. You stand there limply, frozen in time. Caught in a moment of utter shock. His lips are rough and harsh against yours; taking all and giving nothing back. You kind of like the feeling. Not that you'd ever admit to it.

He pulls back slowly, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip like he could erase the evidence. "Night, Sam." He mumbles and heads into his mother's apartment.

The original plan was to head home, but instead, you turn around and head back into Carly's loft. She's sitting on the couch watching Girly Cow, eating a Popsicle. Before she can speak, you drop down onto the couch next to her and grab the Popsicle, shoving it straight into your mouth.

"I was eating that." She says, not sounding half as perturbed as she should.

"I know. I like the way you taste."

She pauses for a moment, considering whether or not you're joking. "I don't care." She finally declares. "I was eating that." She tilts your hand so you shove the Popsicle into her mouth instead of your own.

"Hey!"

"Serves you right."

"Whatever."

She smiles around her frozen snack and settles back in. "I thought you were going home."

You shrug. "Change of plans."

She mimics your shrug. "Okay."

You turn to face her. "Really? That's it? No questions? No painful interrogation in the elevator with a flashlight?"

"Only if you want to."

"I'm okay." You nod.

"Okay."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Carly shrugs and grins. "That's fine."

You watch her for a moment. "I mean it. I'm not saying a word."

"Okay by me."

You stand. "Damn it, Carly! I said no!"

She laughs. "Relax, Sam. I'm pretty sure I don't even want to know."

You exhale loudly, sitting back down. "Good."

You're staring at her lips. You don't mean to, but Freddie kissed you and you love Carly so much more than you love him. Not that you love him at all. That's one thing you have in common, though. You both are in love with Carly. Not that you're in love with her. All the time. Every second of ever hour of every day of your life. Whatever. It doesn't mean anything. But those lips. They look so tasty and so pouted. They want you to kiss them.

"Do I have something on my face?" Carly asks.

You finally raise your eyes to break your stare on her lips. "Not right now."

You lift up onto your hands and knees, slowly bringing your face closer to hers.

"What are you doing?" She whispers, eyes wide.

You shake your head. "I don't know."

As you settle back, poising on your ankles, you wish you could just disappear. Or evaporate. Or something. You should be able to evaporate, right? You're like sixty percent water or something. Carly's watching you, which doesn't help you relax at all.

Suddenly you're on your feet. "I'm going to go."

She raises her eyebrows. "Okay...?"

You run most of the way home. It's normally ten minutes with your hyperactive way of walking, but you make it there in four. You yank your key chain out of your pocket, unlocking the door like you're being chased or stalked.

Your mom is out. She's out most nights. She dates a lot. Some nights, like this one, you wish she didn't.

You step numbly up the stairs and into your bedroom. After a quick fumble out of most of your clothing, you drop onto the bed.

Your room is pristine white. Your second bedroom this year. Both eggshell. You've considered painting the walls, adding personal touches, making it _yours. _But no bedroom has felt like yours since the first, and you will never see that room again. Your not sure what your mother is running from, maybe your dad, but you are hardly capable of stopping her.

Turning over, you bury your face in the pillow. Sleep is so fulfilling.

**XXX**

There's nothing quite like the cold wind of an autumn afternoon whipping passed your ears. Normally, your not one to show up to track practice, just the meets, but you've showed up every day this week so far. Which isn't saying a hell of a lot considering its only Tuesday, but your coach seems happy.

You sprint full out on the track, all free and uninhibited. It's better than sex. Maybe. You're running, why are you thinking about sex now? This is supposed to be your _free _time. No sex, no Carly, no Freddie…. Or however those three connect, whatever. It doesn't matter. Clearing brain now.

"Sam! SAM!" Your coach is screaming after you and you slow to a jog in place.

"Sup?"

"You passed the finish line like thirty seconds ago. Go back and do it again. I know you can beat that time." She commands. Your automatic response is to argue back, but you hold your words in your throat and jog back to the start.

Carly's watching you from the stands. You can feel her eyes on you. You can always sense when she's nearby. You are totally cut out for this invisible ninja shit.

Freddie's next to her, his eyes fixed on you just as intensely. Gees. Stalker much? It was one kiss. Okay, two. But it isn't like you kissed back or anything! What is wrong with him? He should try playing the field a little. Two friends, both girls, and he has to chase both. Idiot.

"Damn it, Sam! Are you going to participate or what?"

You glance at your coach. "What?"

"I've told you to go like a half a dozen times! Don't you see everyone else running?"

You take off like a light. Why do adults have to use phrases like 'half a dozen?' If they want to prove a point, can't they be normal and make it an absurdly large number? Half a dozen just doesn't sound like they are really putting in enough effort.

You catch up to the rest of the pack fairly easily. You've always been a good runner. It's the meat consumption. You don't know why, but it is.

Too soon, practice is over.

**XXX**

"You want the rest of my smoothie?" Carly offers.

"Do I ever!" You exclaim excitedly, snatching her smoothie and downing some.

She smiles at you fondly. You can feel it soak into your skin like perfume. You fight a blush and clear your throat as if that would get her to look away. Pulling back from the smoothie, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"So, uh, let's get out of here." You don't really feel like leaving, but you couldn't take the silence anymore and that was the first thing to pop into your head. Freddie's studying you like your one of his science experiments. Would Carly get mad if you just punched him for what would seem like no reason?

Carly frowns, confused. "Okay, if you really want to. You said your running made you want a smoothie, though."

"It did." You give. "And now I've got my smoothie, so we can leave."

"Carly," Freddie starts, "Why don't you go see if Spencer wants a smoothie? My treat? I'd feel bad if we headed back and came in having our smoothies, leaving him smoothie-less."

Your stomach tightens uncomfortably. You hook your eyes on Carly, hoping to communicate somehow your need for her to stay.

"Good idea." She says, standing. "I'll be back in a minute."

She's barely out the door when Freddie takes your hand again, like you're on a date or something. You try to yank it back, but he holds on tight. You yank again, but it's a no go.

"When did you get strong?" You ask him, actually curious.

He shrugs. "Probably thanks to all my attempts to combat your temper."

You nod slightly, turning to look out the window. "I hope Carly gets back soon."

"You know, if she wasn't coming back, it'd be like we're on a date." He grins at you.

"We're not."

"I know, but it would be nice."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Sam, what do you have against dating me?" He asks you.

You stare at him, seemingly temporarily dumb struck. "I…"

"See? There's nothing holding us back."

"But, but you like Carly!" You protest, finally freeing your hand from his death grip.

"Used to." He corrects. "I mean, I still like her, and I'd probably still go for it if she asked me out, but I don't want to pursue her anymore."

You force yourself to blink. "But, but you're like obsessed!"

He shakes his head. "No, just hopeful. I thought eventually she'd change her mind. Through my love for her, she might start to see how cute and endearing I am."

"She does," You counter, "Just in a little brother kind of way."

"Do you think of me as a little brother?"

You scoff. "Hell no."

"Then it would work."

You stand then, running a hand through your curly blonde locks. "Look, Freddie, I'll admit that its sweet of you to willingly forget some girl for her best friend." You grin at your own words. With a little chuckle you continue, "I don't have anything against you, I just don't have anything for you. You're the iCarly technical producer, we're friends. I like the relationship we have."

Carly walks back in at that moment, looking breathless and happy. Your heart stops and then speeds. You don't know why this is happening to you lately. You've been friends forever. For some reason, though, she makes your heart sing lately. You gape at her. She gives you an odd smile and heads over to the table.

"He'd love a smoothie, especially if you're buying." She tells Freddie, gripping the back of a chair.

He stands, offering her a smile. "I'm on it."

Carly backs up over to you. She folds her arms across her chest and leans into the wall. "So, what happened?"

You frown at her. "What makes you think something happened?"

"Well, Freddie looked glum and you were standing next to the door neglecting the rest of my smoothie when I walk in." She explains.

The smell of her hair drifts over to you, filling your senses. What would she have done had you kissed her a few days ago?

"Oh, he asked me out." You slip accidentally, too caught up in your drifting mind to give anything but and honest answer.

"What?" She exclaims, breaking you out of your daze.

You shake your had to clear it a little more. "I mean, he, uh…" There really isn't a good cover when you said it so plainly.

"He asked you out?" She questions in a loud whisper? "Why?"

You raise your eyebrows at her. "Why?"

She brushes off your retort with a wave of her hand and a roll of her eyes. "I mean, it isn't weird that anyone would want to date you, being as pretty as you are, but Freddie? You guys never stop fighting."

You shrug. "You don't have to convince me, tell him that."

She grins suddenly. "It would be a nice change if he were to become interested in someone else."

"Carly, he has no shot with me."

She stares at you suspiciously. "Why not?"

Honesty is best, you tell yourself. Honesty is best. "Because I like someone else." It's the first time you've ever admitted out loud that you like her, even to yourself. It's actually somewhat shocking. You lick your lips as if to clean the words off. You like her. That's all there is to it. You've officially made the mistake every sexually confused girl makes- you've fallen for your best friend. And you're over generalizing about it. Phenomenal.

Carly's smiling excitedly at you. "You like someone? You never told me! Who is it?"

Honesty isn't best; whoever decided that was an idiot. You lick your lips again, trying to find the right words.

"Its no one you know." You squeeze out.

"Who do you know that I don't know?" She asks.

She has a point. "Okay, so its someone you do know."

Freddie wanders back over with Spencer's smoothie, stopping any reply Carly had been about to make. "Okay, got the smoothie, let's bounce."

You shake your head at him, running a hand down your face. "Please tell me you did not just say 'let's bounce.'"

Carly saves him from having to respond by bringing back up the conversation you'd hoped was over. "Sam likes someone."

A self-satisfied expression overcomes Freddie, like that could be the only possible reason you would reject him. "Who?" He asks.

They both look at you expectantly. You look at the smoothie, searching for clues.

"Spencer." His name is out of your mouth before you can grab it and force it back down. Freddie looks stunned; Carly looks on the verge of laughter.

"He's like a million years older than you!" She says, letting out a small laugh.

"I don't care." You respond defiantly. "If I'm going to be with someone, I want them to be funny and keep good food around."

"He is funny, and he does keep good food around." Carly concedes, still looking suspicious.

Freddie seems somewhat upset by this recent development. He tugs open the door. "Let's go back."

**XXX**

"So, why Spencer?"

The clock just struck ten. You're curled up in Carly's sheets, watching her get ready for bed. The sheets smell like her, that intoxicating scent that has your brain drifting to much more perverted topics.

"Why Spencer what?" You respond, distracted by the swaying of her body as she paces back and forth between her en suite bathroom and bedroom, trying to brush her hair and talk to you at the same time. When did she become so sexy?

She rolls her eyes at you. "Why are you crushing on my brother?"

"I'm not-" You begin, but cut yourself off. "Oh, um, Spencer. I told you, he's great."

"I know, but you've always felt that way. When did it become a love thing?" She asks.

"I don't know." You watch her dark eyes blink at you. Her long eyelashes clashing against the light skin of her cheeks. You let your mind drift back. When did you realize everything she did was such a turn on? "I guess I've always found him attractive." Even when you were eight and stealing her lunch, you still thought she was pretty.

"I have to admit, it's a little weird to have you like my brother." She tells you, coming back into her room and settling in bed next to you.

You shrug. "Would it be weirder if I liked you?"

She stares at you for a moment, as if she's really considering her answer. You meant for it too be an offhand comment, so her sincerity makes your cheeks stain pink.

"No," she finally answers. "It wouldn't."

You frown deeply at her, trying to hide your surprise. "Really?"

She shrugs. "Yeah, really. I mean, at least with me, I uh…" She lets her words fade out.

"You what?" You question eagerly.

She shakes her head. "I don't know. It just wouldn't be weird." She reaches over and clicks off the light. "Night."

You're still sitting up, staring at the spot where she 's lying in the dark. Your heart is racing, your body practically vibrating. "I'd have a shot with you?" Part of you wishes you had a little more self-control; the other part is dying to hear her answer.

"Well," she sighs through the dark. "You definitely don't have a shot with Spencer."

"But I'd have a shot with you? If I liked you, I mean." It's taking everything you have to keep the desperation out of your voice.

"What does it matter?" She sighs again. "You like Spencer, not me."

"But if I did like you…"

"But you don't."

"But if I did…"

She sits back up, flipping the light back on, to stare into your brightened eyes. "Why is this such a big deal to you?" She asks.

You slump back into her headboard. "I guess it just makes me feel good about myself to think someone as hot as you would consider me." Lies, all lies.

She smiles. "You have to stop telling me I'm hot or I might actually start believing you like me and not Spencer."

You grin. "Yeah, but every time I say it, you smile."

She rolls her head, snatching up her pillow and hitting you in the face with it. "Go to sleep, Sam."

As she shuts off the light this time, you sink down into her bed, unable to remove the toothy smile declaring residence on your face. You'd have a shot with her.


	2. Chapter 2

The alarm clock is beeping. You can hear it through the last remnants of sleep, but that doesn't mean you have to recognize its existence. Whoever invented alarm clocks needs to be thrown overboard with an anchor tied to their leg.

You feel Carly shift next to you, reaching a hand out to end the racket, and you watch her with a sort of awed, spaced-out expression. The noise stops abruptly and she rolls over, cuddling into your side. You cuddle her back, suddenly fully awake from her warm body making contact with hers. Then she ruins it. She lifts her head, glances at the clock, and proceeds to exit the bed muttering a few well-chosen words.

"Sam, up! Get up! Come on!" She yells at you as you snuggle deeper into her warm bed.

"Its early…" You say in a muffled whine, rubbing at your eyes.

"Its almost eight o' clock!" Carly exclaims.

"What's your point?"

"It's a school day!"

You reluctantly stumble out of bed, pushing your hair out of your eyes and tripping over the bedding accompanying you. She's already digging through her drawers, pulling out random articles of clothing and checking to see if they match in the small amount of light filtering through the window. Dropping down next to your bag, you pull out your clothing option for the day and filter into it, without really paying attention.

It isn't until you realize Carly could have just seen you completely naked that you become alert. Looking around suspiciously, you can't force the blush that has overtaken your cheeks back down. Carly comes out of the bathroom, fully dressed and brushing her hair, and gives you a weird look.

"What's wrong?" She asks, tying her bangs back with a barrette.

Impossibly, your blush deepens. Why does she have to be so attractive? You busy yourself with opening the shades, as you mutter, "Nothing."

You run a brush through your hair quickly, stuff your pajamas back in your bag, and zip it just as Carly comes out of the bathroom looking like she'd spent an hour getting ready instead of a few minutes.

"How do I look?" She asks, giving a little twirl.

You take this as permission to check her out, so you let your eyeballs trace where her shirt pulls a little tighter around her chest, where her skirt ends and the inches of skin visible before her socks begin. Such beautiful skin. She should never wear clothes. Your blush deepens a little.

"You look hot." You tell her with a shrug as she shoves a toothbrush into your mouth.

She grins softly at you. "Brush quickly while I try to throw together some breakfast. We should have been off to school half an hour ago."

You smile at her around your toothbrush. "You look hot." You say again.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Don't forget to floss."

You meet her downstairs a few minutes later and she thrusts a piece of toast and half a dozen slices of bacon into your hand. You smile into your toast as you shrug on your coat, shoulder your bag, and follow her out the door.

**XXX**

Its lunchtime. You rest your head on your arms, wishing you'd woken up earlier so Carly would have packed you a lunch. Your stomach growls angrily. You pat it with your left hand.

"Its okay, Ralph. I'll feed you soon." You tell it.

"You named your stomach Ralph?" You hear Freddie say.

You lift your head to glare at him. "You haven't earned the right to call him that, its Mr. Ralph to you."

Carly chuckles softly from next to you. "I'll buy you something if you're really that hungry, Sam." She says.

You shake your head resolutely. "No you won't." You tell her. But then you grin evilly at Freddie. "He will."

Freddie frowns. "I will?"

"Thanks for volunteering, Fredward!" You exclaim, clapping him on the shoulder.

He shakes his head at you. "I'm not buying you lunch."

"But you owe me twenty bucks."

"Actually _you_ owe _me_ twenty bucks."

"Then I guess you can just add this to my tab, then."

"What tab? I'm not a bar!"

Carly sits on the table to, literally, put herself between you and the dork to stop the arguing. "How about I buy myself some lunch and you can share it with me?" She offers.

You shrug. "I guess that would be okay."

You watch her hips move as she heads for the food line. The silence only lasts a moment before Freddie ruins it.

"So you really like Spencer?" He asks.

You stare at him. "Of course I do."

"I just, I don't buy it."

"You don't have to," You say with a small smile. "It's the truth."

"I think its true that you like a Shay, but not that Shay." He's grinning at you triumphantly.

You continue to stare blankly at him even though you are kind of shocked on the inside. Only recently did you realize you liked Carly, how could he have picked up on it so quickly?

"Not denying it? So I'm right?" He asks, looking genuinely surprised. "I was just kidding."

You glare at him, lunging across the table and curling your fist into his shirt. "Don't say anything."

"You like Carly?" He gasps, clearly experiencing more emotion over this than the threat of violence. "I mean, really?"

You release his shirt and sit back down, trying to compose yourself. "Of course not. She's my best friend. I just wanted to freak you out."

He fixes his collar as he responds, "I… guess that sounds like something you would do. But that seemed like a natural reaction."

"Well, it wasn't. I'm just a great actress." You tell him, raising your eyebrows.

He shrugs. "It would make more sense if it was Carly you liked instead of Spencer."

You frown at him. "What makes you think that?"

He shrugs again. "I don't know, it would just make more sense."

"Carly said the same thing last night." You admit.

"Did she?"

Carly arrives back at the table at that moment, carrying a thing of fries, some cookies, and what looks like mystery meat, covered in goo, and put over rice. You immediately dig in to the food to hide the heat rising into your face.

"What were you guys talking about?" She asks, clearly not the eavesdropper you've trained her to be.

"About the next iCarly." You blurt out before Freddie can respond. "We really need to choose which bits we're going to do since we have to start rehearsing tomorrow night."

Freddie nods, catching his cue to say nothing about the conversation you'd actually been having. "We should have a meeting tonight to finalize the schedule."

Carly nods. "I'm game. Spencer's going over to Socko's tonight to get some help with his sculpture, so we'll have the loft to ourselves."

"Its settled then." Freddie declares.

You bob your head. "Fantastic."

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, when it doesn't stop you finally pull it out and answer.

"Yeah?" You say.

"Hey honey, how's school going?" It's your mom.

You shrug even though she can't see you. "Fine, I guess."

"Really?"

"No, it's boring."

She laughs. "That's my Sammy. So listen, Todd's taking me to the theater tonight, so I'm not going to be around for dinner. You want me to make you something and leave it in the oven or would you like some money to get something out?"

Neither one is a very good option. Your mother's cooking could replace water-boarding as a torture technique and eating fast food again doesn't sound tasty at all to you at the moment.

"Can I spend the night at Carly's?" You ask, inserting your own third option.

"You spent the night there last night." Your mom points out.

You shrug again. "Can I?"

"I guess."

"Thanks mom."

You shut your phone and slip it back into your pocket. Carly's studying you from behind a couple of fries paused midway between the plate and her mouth.

"So, you're spending the night, are you?" She questions.

You nod enthusiastically. "Totally."

"Have you ever thought of, oh, I don't know, asking me instead of just declaring it?"

You shake your head. "You know, I really haven't,"

She whacks your arm.

**XXX**

"So, what's for dinner, Spence?" You question, sliding onto a barstool and watching him peek into the fridge.

He comes back to a stand and shimmies as he announces, "Enchiladas!"

You nod, raising your eyebrows at him.

"You know, that word needs an 'r' in it somewhere. Renchiladas! Enriladas!" He frowns, rounding his shoulders. "I give up."

You can feel Carly's eyes on you as you talk to Spencer. If Freddie didn't buy it, maybe she didn't either. Your scalp starts to feel hot. What if she also guessed that it was another Shay taking over your thoughts? She couldn't have. If she had, she would have said something. Carly is terrible at keeping secrets. There's no way she knows. You turn a little on your stool and smile at her. She smiles back and climbs off the couch to join you in the kitchen.

"How about 'enchilaras?" She offers Spencer.

He grins at her. "I knew you were my sister."

As he begins to dig ingredients out of the refrigerator, she leans close to you, close enough for you to feel her hair fall against the side of your face. Her lips come down to your ear and she whispers, "Maybe you should tell him how you feel."

You feel goose bumps rise on your arms, even though the words she spoke were not the ones you wanted to hear. Your heart speeds up as you turn your head ever so slightly to look into her eyes. She doesn't exactly look happy about her own idea, but more resigned. As you open your mouth to respond, though, Freddie strolls in carrying a baguette.

"What's with the lengthy bread?" You ask him instead, brushing past Carly to head into the living room.

He eyeballs the baguette. "My mom said I eat dinner over here so much she felt she had to send something with me."

Spencer waves him into the kitchen. "Bring it on over, Freddo, it'll go great with the enchiladas."

Freddie frowns at him. "Of course it will."

You sit down to dinner half an hour later to the left of Spencer and across the table from Carly. Which works for you, considering it means you have unlimited access to looking at Carly and nobody can think anything of it. Spencer's phone rings halfway through dinner and he takes off for Socko's.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Carly hisses at you as soon as Spencer swings out the door.

"About?" You ask innocently.

"About how you like him!" She exclaims.

You roll your eyes at her. "Why do you want me to? I thought this was weird? Just last night you were telling me I have no shot."

She nods. "So? You should still tell him."

"Why?"

"So he knows! And," She takes a breath, "So I don't explode the next time I see him."

"Really?" You say in disbelief. "You want me to tell him because you can't keep a secret?"

"No, I want you to tell him so maybe you could start getting over him."

Freddie sits quietly at his end of the table, shoveling enchilada into his mouth. He's watching you, though, as if he's in on the big secret.

"Tell her, Freddie. She should tell Spencer, shouldn't she?" Carly demands of him.

He chokes on his food and swallows hard. "I'm not getting involved."

Carly continues on frustrated, "You'll feel better once you tell him! I swear!"

"Why does this mean so much to you?" You ask her. "Why do you care?"

"I," She begins to respond, but pauses. "I don't know."

You stare at each other for a moment before she boards the elevator, leaving you and Freddie alone with the food. You dig in again like the whole conversation didn't happen. What did any of this mean? Last night it was weird and today she wants you to confess your feelings to her brother? Psycho much?

"I have no idea what's up with that girl." You say to Freddie since he's the only one in the room.

Freddie shrugs. "The idea of you liking her brother weirds her out, but she wants to seem supportive by being overly supportive and trying to force you into taking steps you're not ready to take."

You nod, impressed. "That was oddly insightful from someone with zero luck in love."

He sticks his tongue out at you. "If you ask me, you should just tell Carly you aren't really crushing on Spencer and go out with me."

You roll your eyes. "One bad idea traded in for one that's even more jank. No thanks."

You stand and head for the stairs, taking your dinner with you. Carly's sitting up in the studio, sunk into one of the beanbags. You stroll in and take the beanbag next to her.

"Hey kid." You say in an offhand way.

She nods at you. "Is it just me or have I been acting really weird lately?"

"Weirder than usual?" You ask and she smacks your arm.

"You know what I mean. I feel like I'm missing something big and taking everything too far." She shrugs.

You pat her shoulder and down a bite of enchilada. "Its my fault, cupcake. By telling you I like Spencer I put you in an awkward position."

She stares at you for a moment. "Yeah, you did."

You nod. "I know I did. But you know, I don't really like Spencer."

"You don't?"

You shake your head. "No."

"Than why'd you say you did?"

"Because I couldn't come up with a real reason why I wouldn't date Freddie." That's partly true. And partly is better than a full on lie.

"So it was just an excuse for Freddie?"

You nod again. "Yep. I can't really think of an honest reason why I won't date him beyond the fact that I don't want to."

"I get that." She acknowledges with a nod. "So why did you lie to me?"

You shrug. "I don't know."

She returns the shrug, snuggling back into her beanbag. "Let's watch _Titanic_ tonight and bawl our eyes out over the fact we have no romance in our pitiful teenage lives."

You stare at her, wondering how she would take it if you opted up yourself as the romance in her life. You shake yourself out of your stupor just in time to realize you haven't said anything in over a minute and she'll get suspicious if you don't speak soon.

"If you want to." You say in a fazed out voice.

"You don't?" Her eyes study your face without actually looking into your azure irises.

You rub your lips together. "Well, instead of bawling our eyes out over a movie, we could have a pillow fight. We could watch _Family Guy_ and laugh our asses off. We could go to the mall and watch people have meltdowns. We could have a pie eating contest."

She nods. "You're right, we should have fun. Sometimes its just fun to pout, though."

"Yeah, but not when you have your bestest buddy in the world over." You say proudly, ruffling her hair. "Now come on, the world's awaiting."

She leans over, wrapping her arms around you. "You're the best, Sam." She whispers in your ear.

You can feel color flooding your cheeks, your heart picking up its pace. Whenever she touches you lately, your whole body starts to panic like a fight or flight response. She has to stop doing this to you. Hopefully she can't feel your blood pressure rising.

You shrug her off of you and grab her hand to pull her to standing with you. "So, what do you want to do first?"

She bobs her left shoulder. "I don't know. You want to go shopping and then go get Chinese food?"

You grin at her. "Your hungry?"

"No, but I'm sure you will be in a couple of hours."

You smile happily at her. "You know me so well."

She leads the way out of the iCarly studio and downstairs. Freddie is still sitting at the table where you left him, but it seems he's finished off every last bit of enchilada and baguette. He's curled in the fetal position over a couple of chairs and moaning. Carly rushes over to him as soon as she hears his pleas for help.

"Oh my god, Freddie! Are you okay?" She demands of him, even though he obviously isn't.

"So much enchilada." He mumbles, covering his mouth as if he might puke. "So much baguette."

You stalk over, taking a seat on a barstool. "What did I tell you, Freddie? Never try to compete with mama when it comes to mass food consumption."

He groans in response. "Can I sleep here, tonight?"

Carly frowns apologetically at him. "You know you can't. I'll go get your mom." She climbs to her feet and jogs to the door. "Sam, get him a bucket."

As soon as you've pulled a bucket out from under the sink, Carly's back with Mrs. Benson sprinting behind her.

"Freddie!" Mrs. Benson exclaims. "What happened?"

"So much enchilada. So much baguette." He repeats for his mother.

"My poor baby!" She cries, lifting him into her arms and carrying him out of the loft as if he only weighed a couple of pounds.

Carly follows them to the door and shuts it behind Mrs. Benson. "It kind of creeps me out how she just carried him out like that."

"Are you kidding?" You respond. "I have a new found respect for Mrs. Benson."

Carly grins at you, heading back into the kitchen to start cleaning up. "Do you still want to go shopping?" She asks, putting dishes in the sink.

You shake your head, helping her clear the table without even thinking about it. "Not really. Maybe a night in is a good idea."

She nods. "We could cuddle and watch _Family Guy_ still if you want?"

You smile at her. "Of course." It's the only sign Carly ever gives that she misses her parents. She always wants to cuddle when she's thinking about them. Sometimes it's set off by seeing Freddie's mom in a particularly parental mood, sometimes its just looking at their pictures once in a while. Not that you're complaining, you love it when she wants to cuddle with you.

You curl up on the couch with her under a blanket, holding her hand and letting her rest her head on your shoulder. Sometimes, life is sweet.


	3. Chapter 3

You can't sleep. You want to, but after cuddling with Carly for nearly three hours, you are so turned on you can't. She's fast asleep next to you, holding your hand. She clearly isn't going through the same ordeal. You stare down at her, studying the contours of her face. For a moment you wonder how far gone she is, trying to figure out if you could touch her without waking her. Touch her, maybe _kiss_ her. No! That is expecting way too much. But still, you want to.

Your eyes trace the outline of her lips in the dark. Maybe you could make it look like an accident. If she thinks you're asleep, too, she won't know the difference, and that's only if she wakes up. Maybe it isn't worth the risk.

But perhaps it is.

You scoot down in her bed, cuddling closer, gripping her fingers tighter in your hand. One little kiss. No big deal, nothing to freak out about.

Your heart's racing, beating hard in your throat. You have no luck, she'll wake up. She'll wake up and she'll know you're head over heels in love with her.

You shift back away on a sigh. Whatever, it's not like you had to kiss her. She's not even awake, what would kissing her accomplish? Its not like it would diminish the burning need in your gut. In fact, it might intensify it. Life will be easier if you never have the opportunity to taste her lips.

"Sam?"

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Carly's voice in your ear. Stumbling to flip back over, you fall partway out of the bed and scramble back under the covers.

"Yes, Carly?" You reply extremely formally.

Her arm curves around your waist and she hugs you close. "Thanks for earlier. "

"Its… no problem." You mumble hoarsely.

She grins up at you. "You can never leave me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I never want to leave you."

"Good."

She snuggles closer and slips back into sleep. She screwed you over, though: you definitely will not be sleeping tonight.

**XXX**

For a moment, you think there's an earthquake happening. You can feel the shaking, the rumbling around you, and you begin to panic. You force your eyes to open, ripping the blanket, which had previously been covering your face to block out light, off. And no, it isn't an earthquake. Its douche-bag.

"What the hell, Freddie?" You exclaim, running a hand over your eyes.

He smiles down at you, ceasing jumping and stepping down off the couch. "Carly sent me down to get you. We have to start rehearsal." He announces.

You rub your eyes again, flipping over to lie on your side. "Its too early."

"Its nearly four. I have to be home for dinner today." He tells you.

You glare at him. "Go home, then."

"Oh, Sam. Don't be like that." He says in what he probably thinks is a sweet voice. "If you want, I could help you wake up a little."

"Oh, yeah? And how would you manage that?" The words are out of your mouth before you can stop his ears from picking them up. You know exactly how he would think to wake you up more, and there's no way you'd submit yourself to that.

You jump off the couch just as he bends down to be level with you. His eyes flick upwards and he begins to laugh as he studies the disturbed expression on your face.

"I see it worked." He grins.

"Like hell," you respond. "I'm not letting you do that to me again."

"Well, now that you're awake, we can start rehearsal." He says as if he hadn't heard you.

You grab a soda and follow him into the elevator. "Yeah, yeah."

The doors slide shut and he leans against the wall, watching you down half of your freshly opened Peppy Cola. "Is it me or is it her?" He asks after a moment, pressing a button to halt the elevator between floors.

You eyeball his hand. "Is it you or her what?"

"Do you really just not like me, or are you refusing me because of Carly?" He explains.

You lick your lips, taking another swig of your soda. "Why are you still thinking about this? Move on to bigger and better things, nerd!"

He smiles. "I'm still thinking about this because I see you every day." He shrugs. "Am I really that unlikeable? The two girls I'm closest to have zero interest in me. That doesn't help my self esteem much." He admits.

You role your eyes. "Its not my job to help your self esteem!" You exclaim. But then you sigh and deflate a little. "Look, Fredward, its not you, its me."

He laughs a little, rubbing his hands together. "I can't believe you just used that line on me."

You grin softly at him. "I'm serious. As much as I'm going to regret saying this, there are a lot of girls that would make you happy and would gladly go out with you. Carly and I, well, we just like you as a friend. It really isn't about you. Its about us."

He considers your words for a moment, and then nods. After a minute he pushes the button to resume ascension, but quickly pushes it again and the elevator freezes.

You punch his arm. "What is your problem? I thought you wanted me to get up for rehearsal! I didn't realize you wanted to interrogate me in the elevator!"

He rubs his arm, pouting. "What did you mean by 'us'?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You said it wasn't about me, it was about you and Carly. 'Us'."

You role your eyes. "Not what you're trying to infer, dumb-ass, just that it just so happens neither one of us wants to be more than friends with you."

"But you want to be more than friends with her?"

You glare at him for a minute, finishing your pop as you consider your answer. You crush the can and reach over to shove it in his pocket.

Instead of words, you decide actions speak louder. You shove him to the side and hit the button, finishing off the last few feet to the third floor. "Come, geek, we have a show to rehearse."

He chases after you to the door. "So its true?"

"Is what true?" You question, eyeballing him as you pull open the door.

He shuts up as soon as he enters since Carly is standing right there waiting for you. She's looking amazing, as usual. Today she wears a skirt with no tights underneath. It would be only so easy to… Forget it. You have skits to do.

**XXX**

"How about I kiss you in front of her?"

You pop Freddie on the back of the head, and continue to stare out the window at Carly's form on the street down below. It's pouring down rain as of a few minutes ago. She chose a really unlucky time to fetch donuts.

"Don't be an idiot." You finally say, leaning forward into the glass until she disappears through the lobby doors.

"So you really like her then?" He asks.

"What is with you and Carly these last few days? Why do you care so much who I like? Oh, and BTW, I haven't actually admitted to liking anyone." You tell him, straining your ears for Carly's return to the loft.

"You said you liked Spencer." He points out.

"Yeah, but that was just to get you off my case." You chuckle lightly at the expression on his face. "For now, just assume that I don't like anyone. Really, stop thinking about it, stop talking about it, stop asking me about it. I don't like anyone."

"But you like Carly. It seems so clear to me now that I've thought about it." He inserts.

"Of course I like Carly!" You exclaim, ramming the back of your hand into the glass behind you. "In fact, I love her! Guess why? She's my best friend!"

"I love you, too, Sam."

You spin on your heels to find Carly standing in the doorway, holding a bag of donuts, soaked from head to foot. She sets the bag down and shrugs out of her coat.

"I can never leave you two alone, can I? You are always fighting when I get back." She says, heading over to take a beanbag next to Freddie.

"We weren't fighting." You declare immediately.

"We really weren't." Freddie backs you up. He glances at the clock. "I've got to jet. I'm supposed to be home precisely at six for dinner."

"But I just got donuts!" Carly says.

He shrugs. "Sam will have no problem eating my share, I'm sure." He heads for the door, but stops just shy of leaving. "You should tell her. This whole secrecy thing will get you nowhere." He tells you before shutting the door behind him.

"Yeah, because your stalking method has worked so well!" You exclaim sarcastically to no one in particular.

Carly frowns at you. "What should you tell me?" She asks.

You jump a little, having forgotten that she was sitting so close to you. Shrugging in response, you snatch the bag of donuts and bite into a particularly large one with sprinkles. "Delicious." You announce.

"Sam, what does Freddie think you should tell me?" Carly tries again.

You shrug a second time and decide to just tell her the truth. It's the best approach, and its not like you have to admit anything by telling her Freddie's suspicions.

"Freddie thinks I'm in love with you because I rejected him. " You say casually.

Carly doesn't appear to think this is a casual statement in the least. She stares at you for a long moment, utters a small "oh," and then stands, pacing into the kitchen. You follow her with your eyes.

"I said 'Freddie thinks', I didn't say I actually am." You explain to her, hoping she picked up on this little bit of information.

"I know." She says offhandedly, looking for something under the sink.

"So you realize Freddie thinking it doesn't make it true." You press.

She nods, clearly not finding anything of interest under the sink and moving on to the shelves over the stove. "I got that."

"Than why do you look so freaked out?" You question, finishing off your donut and heading into the kitchen.

"I'm not freaked out."

"You look freaked out."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Sometimes."

"A lot of times."

"Carly."

"Sam."

Her eyes meet yours and you hold her gaze for a long moment. After a moment, she deflates and leans against the counter.

"You want cocoa? I want cocoa." She turns away from you to fetch mugs, but you turn her back around to face you.

"Does it freak you out in a good way or a bad way?" You ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Would you want me to be in love with you?" You ask, being as forward as possible, even though your insides are attacking each other.

She stares at you for a moment, rubbing her lips together. "I don't know. But it doesn't really matter since you're not." She shrugs with a small smile and turns back around to start the water boiling.

You stand there for a moment, studying the back of her head. "You are the most confusing girl I know." You tell her and head back into the living room.

**XXX**

You get home just after eight to find your mother lounging on the couch. She's wearing glasses and a book entitled "_Pink Think" _is propped up in front of her. She looks strangely adult and professional in a way you aren't used to.

"Hey, sweetie." She greets as you slip your shoes off next to the door and take a seat next to her on the couch. She sets the book aside at the look on your face. "Is something wrong?"

"Mom," You begin, trying to figure out how to get the answer your looking for without actually saying anything important. "How do you know when someone likes you?"

"Depends, is this a friend problem or a love problem?" She asks.

You shrug. "Both, kind of."

A wide smile slips onto her face and she shifts to face you better. "My little Samantha has fallen in love?" She questions excitedly.

"Whoa, slow down, woman." You say, putting her hands up in an attempt to curb her enthusiasm. "I asked how you know if someone feels that way towards you, not that I feel that way towards someone."

She sighs heavily. "Too bad. I thought you were really getting somewhere."

"What?"

"Never mind." She brushes you off. "You want to know how you tell if someone's in love with you? Who are you trying to figure out?"

You stare at her for a moment. "You want me to name names?"

She shrugs. "Well, in order for me to tell you how to figure it out, I have to know what their personality is like."

You think about it for a moment and then stand. "Never mind, then. Sounds more complicated than I care to get involved in."

As you head out of the room, your mom calls over her shoulder, "You could always try just asking, Sam. You know, the old fashion way."

"Good night, mom." You head into your bedroom, dragging the door shut behind you. If only the situation was simple enough to just ask.

You don't understand Carly's actions at all. Sometimes you think she wants you to want her, sometimes you think she wants you, and most of the time you are so beyond confused you can't even classify the possibilities. In truth, a lot of her behavior could be explained quite simply: you're best friends. She loves you. But going with that explanation doesn't make you feel better in the slightest.

You pull on your pajamas and sit cross-legged on your bed, staring at you phone. Its true, you could call her and just ask her. One simple sentence: do you like me? But you can't, you know you can't.

You flick on the radio and turn it up until the neighbors begin pounding on the wall. They can pound all they want; you already have a headache from overanalyzing Carly's behavior.

**XXX**

You've just finished getting ready for school when a knock sounds at the door. Oddly, it isn't all that weird since your mother regularly has visitors at all hours of the day and night. But this voice, this voice you recognize.

Carly's entering your bedroom before you can pretend to be doing something interesting. She just stands there, lingering in the doorway, all wrapped up in a warm coat and a scarf.

She smiles gently at you. "I thought we could walk to school together today."

You nod. "I see that."

"I feel like things have been weird and getting weirder between us for awhile. It's nice to just do something normal once in a while, you know?" She explains unnecessarily.

You nod, finishing tying your left shoe. "Sure."

"I saw your mom made a whole pound of bacon. She must be worried about you."

You shrug and attempt to fixate your attention on your other shoe. "Mom's are like that."

You see Carly nod out of the corner of your eye and a flash of sadness crosses her face. You stand quickly and head over to her, trying to work a smile onto your face.

"Actually, guardians are like that. Not just parents." You correct, shoving your fingers against her shoulder to head out of the room. "Did she eat much of the bacon? She doesn't always leave me some."

Carly's hand slips into your, her fingers grasping yours tightly. "I think she did, she said something about giving up meat."

You make a 'ch' sound with your mouth. "Like hell, that woman will never give up meat."

"Like mother, like daughter." Carly mutters.

You are acutely aware of every brush of her fingers over yours, ever shift in her posture. Why does she keep doing this to you? Is she holding your hand because she thought about her parents or is she holding your hand because its something she wants to get in the habit of doing more often? God, this chick sucks sometimes.

You reluctantly pull your hand away from hers as you enter the kitchen and begin to pack bacon into a plastic bag. Your mother sits at the table wearing yoga pants and sipping green tea.

"Morning, Sam." She says to you in a singsong voice. "It was very sweet of you to come and get her this morning, Carly."

Carly plops down at the table next to your mom comfortably. "Its no problem, really. I've been making Sam come to my place so much recently, its more than my turn."

"Its too bad you weren't here last night, then. Maybe Samantha would have gotten her homework done." She glares at you over her tea.

You roll your eyes. "Or maybe Carly and I would have decided to build a fort and neither one of us would have gotten our homework done. And then, I wouldn't be able to copy hers this morning during homeroom."

Your mother sips her tea.

Carly smiles and stands. "We should get going. First bell rings in fifteen minutes."

You nod, shoving a piece of bacon into your mouth before dropping a kiss on your mother's cheek. "Bye."

"Are you going to be home after school?" She asks.

You shake your head. "Can't. Got to do a second rehearsal. We put everything off pretty far into the week this time. "

"Okay."

Carly grabs your hand again as soon as you get out onto the sidewalk. You try to ignore it, try to focus on what's going on in the busy streets of Seattle at seven o' clock in the morning, but you can't. You can only think about the feel of her hand in yours, the sensation, the meaning. You try to pull your hand away, but fail miserably as Carly is quite a bit stronger than people think.

"Why are you holding my hand?" You ask finally.

She shrugs. "I just want to. Is that okay?"

You return the shrug. "I guess."

She loosens her grip. "Does it bother you?"

"Not really," You admit casually. "Just after the conversation we had yesterday, it seems…" You let your voice trail off.

She pulls her hand away. "We don't have to, really. It isn't a need or anything."

You grab her hand, linking your fingers with her. "No, its good. I want to, too."

She smiles softly at you. "Well, okay then."

"Okay."

You reach school way too soon. Why do good things never last?


	4. Chapter 4

She's pretty. Very pretty. And sometimes, that almost makes up for her airheaded-ness. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it pisses you off because you're trying so hard to get her to see, without actually having to say anything, something she seems to desperately not want to see. She's lucky she's pretty.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

You rip your eyes away from her, realizing you've been staring at her for quite awhile. And that didn't seem odd at first since Freddie is late, so your stuck setting up the set while she runs through the bit, you yelling your lines back, but it does seem odd now since you've paused in the midst of lifting the car and are staring full force at her. Carly smiles uncomfortably at you.

"Sam?"

"What?" You say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the car back down.

"Are you okay?" Carly asks.

You shrug. "Yeah, cupcake. Why wouldn't I be?"

She returns your shrug. "Did it bother you? Walking to school holding hands with me?"

You steal a glance back at her, but turn back to the car. "No, of course not. Why would it?"

She's moving closer to you, you can feel it. Your heart picks up its pace, pounding hard against your ribs, against your throat. Her hand drops onto your shoulder and she's turning you around to face her. Carly's eyes travel around your face for a moment before meeting yours and holding there.

"Sam…" She mutters.

She takes another step towards you. There's no room, no air, you can't breathe. Carly's lips are moving, but you can't comprehend what she's saying, she's standing so close to you. Her hands are in your hands, she's lacing your fingers together, she's drawing you in so far. If she'd just move her lips a few inches closer you'd be able to taste her…

"I'm here!"

You jump back from Carly, your heart racing, your head spinning. Freddie drops his bag, digging out his computer and camera.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" He exclaims, coming over to you and Carly, completely blind, apparently, to the blush dying your skin bright red. "My mom wouldn't let me leave until I finished my portion of her zucchini casserole." He shivers. "It didn't go down very happily."

Carly is still looking at you, but you can't bring yourself to look back. After a minute, she seems to give up on you and looks over at Freddie. "Sorry you had to suffer." She says to him. "We already went through a few bits, but we should go through everything again. Make sure we are completely ready for Friday."

"Yeah, we should." I force out, nodding. "I have to pee."

You all but run to the bathroom, breathing like you just finished running a marathon. You shut and lock the door, trying to bring your heart rate back down. Turning on the tap, you splash water on your face. What was she doing? Why was she standing so close to you? Was she going to kiss you?

You shake your head forcefully, sending water flying in all directions. No, that couldn't be it. Why would she kiss you? Then again, why would she want to hold hands with you? So many questions. This girl is driving you insane.

Sauntering back out to the iCarly studio, you offer Freddie and Carly an obnoxiously large smile. Carly signals you to come stand next to her, and you head over, maintaining your smile.

"You're scaring me." Freddie says after a moment, pausing in equipment setup. "You're not going to do that for the whole show, are you?"

"Maybe." You snap at him, letting the smile fall. "Let's just get this going. I'm hungry."

An hour and a half later, you ooze down the stairs; so hungry you are willing to consume plastic and wood. Quickly raiding Carly's refrigerator, you pull out everything from milk to fried potatoes. The feast then commences. Carly and Freddie are watching from the sidelines, looking disgusted and on the verge of puking. You grin widely at them, lifting a chicken leg.

"Want some?" You offer.

They both shake their heads. "I think I'm going to go." Freddie mumbles, skipping to the door.

Carly frowns at you, pushing the button for the elevator. "That's disgusting." She tells you before the doors close.

XXX

God, she looks pretty when she's sleeping. You'd finished your food and then headed upstairs to say goodbye to her, only to find her curled up on her bed, fast asleep. Part of you is pulled to lie down next to her and soak in her heat. But the rest of you realizes that isn't the best idea. So, instead, you stand next to her, brushing her hair out of her face, tracing the curve of her jaw. Tracing the pout of her lower lip. You should just leave, this isn't healthy. You can't, though.

Your hand falls to her shoulder and you shake her gently. "Carly? Carly, I'm leaving."

She nods, reaching her hand up to grab yours. "Yeah." She mumbles.

You smile softly at her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Her eyes peek open for a second. She grins up at you. "Sam?"

"Yeah, cupcake?"

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah, cupcake."

She pouts, letting her eyes fall shut again. "Spend the night tomorrow after the show, okay?"

"Of course."

"Okay."

You bend down, pressing a kiss into her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

You walk home with your whole body tingling. You don't even notice the other people inhabiting the Seattle streets with you. You just drift. When you arrive home, your mom is sitting cross-legged on the floor. She smiles up at you.

"Hi, Sammy." She calls.

You pause in your trail to your bedroom and turn full circle. Heading back into the living room, you sit down across from her, folding your legs up the way she has hers.

"Mom, I'm in love." You tell her straight out.

She doesn't even twitch. She just maintains her pose, humming a little. "That's wonderful, Samantha. Love is a great thing."

"Can you stop 'finding your center' for a moment and talk to me?" You ask demandingly.

She shakes her head. "Why don't you try meditating with me?"

You roll your eyes, but shift to mimic her form. "Wow, this is so enlightening." You mutter sarcastically.

"You're so tense, Samantha, you need to calm down. Now, tell me about this love." She says in a calm voice.

"Well, I'm in it. Like mud." You smirk. "Just like mud."

"Your love is like mud?" Your mother repeats, a frown etching into her face.

"Yes. And I'm stuck in it. And I can't get out."

"That sounds more like quicksand." Your mother says unhelpfully.

"Mom."

"Okay, mud it is." She adjusts her hands on her legs. "Why do you want out?"

"Because its wrong."

"How can love be wrong?"

You frown, opening your eyes to stare at her. "Its Carly."

"So?" She opens her eyes to, meeting your gaze. "Are you saying its wrong because she's a girl or because she's your best friend?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Both?"

Her eyes fall shut again. "Don't worry so much, Sam. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. Maybe you need to be in love with her right now, but someday you'll stop and it'll return to being regular friend love. Or maybe things will work out, and you'll end up being together. Either way, love is a good thing, isn't it?"

You frown deeply at her. "Why would I need to be in love with her right now?"

She rolls her eyes. "I don't know, Sammy. I'm not psychic."

"I am." The door tips shut and a guy with long dreadlocks and a large paper bag strolls into the living room. He takes a seat next to your mother, crossing his legs. "I brought eggrolls." He announces.

"We're busy." You snap at him, snatching the bag of eggrolls.

"But you just said you need a psychic." He jabs his thumb at his chest. "Psychic I am."

"Oy, Yodah. Get out." You tell him before turning your attention back to your mother, who's frowning apologetically at the psychic. "Are you going to give me some real advice or what?"

"Danny really is a psychic." She shrugs.

You roll your eyes at "Danny" and push yourself up to standing. "Whatever, I'm going to bed."

You carry the eggrolls off to your room to the sound of Taro cards being shuffled.

XXX

Loud music. Obnoxiously loud music. You try to drown it out with a pillow shoved vicariously into your ears, but it doesn't work.

"Mom!" You scream at the top of your lungs, but its no use. She can't hear you over the bass.

With a groan, you lift away from the comfort of your bed and stomp out of your room and down the hall. Thirty or so people are rocking out in your living room. Early in the morning. This is so like her. You fight your way over to the stereo and turn the volume all the way down. Several people protest, none of who is your mother.

"Where's my mom?" You ask in a threatening tone.

People seem to understand that you mean business and several hands lift to point in the direction of the kitchen.

You nod curtly. "Thank you." You turn the music back up to a more acceptable level that will not get you and your mom evicted and the dancing resumes. Once more you fight your way across the living room and stomp into the kitchen and over to your mother.

"Mom!" You yell at her, but stop there because you aren't really sure what you should follow that up with.

She smiles at you and halts some girl to her left who had been applying bright pink hair dye to your mom's head. "Morning, Sammy." She greets.

You gesture around yourself. "What the hell is this?"

"Just a few friends." She shrugs.

You stare at her, completely nonplussed. "A few friends?"

"And a few of their friends." She adds. "I don't see why you're so upset. Turn that frown upside down!"

You roll your eyes at her. "The music woke me up!"

"Really? Its after eight, don't you have school today? Shouldn't you have already been up?" She tells you.

Your eyes go wide. "Shit!" You exclaim and run back to your bedroom.

As you shove yourself into items of clothing, throwing a few into your bag for the next day, you flip open your phone to figure out why the alarm you'd set hadn't gone off only to find you have a text message. From Carly.

_We need to talk._

An unnecessary chill goes down your spine. What does that mean? 'We need to talk.' Shouldn't you be the one saying that to her? You flip your phone shut again and shove it into your pocket. After a quick brushing of the teeth and hair, separately of course, you pause in the kitchen long enough to grab three slices of pizza, peck your mom on the cheek, and let her know you won't be home that night since you're spending the night with Carly.

Then you haul ass to school.

XXX

You have track after school, which is nice, since as the day has gone on you've become increasingly worried over Carly's text message. What could it possibly mean? You haven't done anything illegal in the last day that she would know about. You haven't abused Freddie as much as that boy needs it. Nothing. There's nothing. Unless… A blush scatters across your face. Unless it's about yesterday. When she was leaning so close to you almost like she was going to kiss you. Maybe she really had been planning to kiss you and now wants to talk about the possibility of you two becoming more than friends…

The people you are running next to stare at you as you openly giggle over this idea, so you speed up to run ahead of the pack.

Your stomach is full of butterflies. How cliché. You hate cliché. Maybe you should get pissed off. Who gets pissed off when they find out the person they're in love with could possibly be interested in them? No one. That's what you should do, but try as you might, you can't. You can't even get this stupid-ass grin off your face.

You slow to a walk as your coach announces practice is over and its time to cool down. The truth is, it's probably not about that at all. It's doubtful that she's even thought twice about yesterday, though it's been the main bubble drifting around your brain. Maybe you should have let Danny the Psychic read your palm or something and find out how all of this ends. Then again, what decent psychic in history had a name like Danny? And what kind of psychic brings eggrolls to a reading? No, you made the right call.

Freddie is waiting for you in the stands, holding a water bottle and lifting your bag onto his shoulder.

You glare at him and snatch the water bottle. "Why are you here?" You demand before draining half the bottle into your parched mouth.

He smiles sweetly at you. "Carly said there was something she needed to take care of and ran home. But I waited for you. Like a good boyfriend."

"You're not my boyfriend." You choke on the water.

"No, but this lets you see what a good one I'd be. You see that? I even rhymed for you."

You can't help but smile at the dweeb. "Let's just go."

He hitches your bag higher up his shoulder. "Okay." He says, grabbing your hand.

You rip your hand away. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, so you'll hold hands with Carly but you won't hold hands with me?" He questions pointedly.

"That was different." You say automatically, not realizing he knew you'd held hands with Carly, but lacking the courage to ask how.

"Because you're in love with her?"

"No, because she's a girl and I'm a girl and girls who are friends are allowed to hold hands." You tell him.

"Okay, sure. I'll believe you." He says in a disbelieving voice.

"Why are you here again?" You snap, fighting a blush. "You didn't have to wait for me. I'm perfectly capable of walking to Carly's on my own."

He smiles again. "I'll tell you if you walk there holding hands with me."

You frown, weighing the options. "Never mind, then. I'm not that curious."

His smile breaks. "Oh, come on, Sam! I waited for you because I wanted to spend some time with you away from the show and away from Carly!" He admits.

You nod. "Oh."

"Please hold hands with me? I won't kiss you or anything, just that." He pouts out his lower lip.

You glance at it. "That isn't attractive."

"Please?" He says again.

"Fine." You cave. "But only because you look really pathetic and desperate right now."

He laces his fingers with yours and strolls happily at your side. "Admit it, I'm growing on you."

"Like a fungus." You reply.

XXX

"That was a great show. Wasn't that a great show? That was a great show." Carly rambles, pouring three glasses of iced tea. "Yes. I am quite proud."

You grin at her enthusiasm. "Any show that allows me to eat massive quantities of meat is a good show."

Freddie gives you a freaked out look. "That was a little frightening, actually. Its like you're part gorilla."

"Do gorillas eat massive quantities of meat?" You ask Carly.

She shakes her head. "No."

You turn back to Freddie. "I don't get the connection."

He shrugs. "Neither do I."

You and Carly stare at him for a moment before moving on. "Well," You begin, "Its time to exclude nerds from the fun. Get out, Freddie."

He opens his mouth to protest, but you shove a bit of mystery cookie into it and push him towards the door. He coughs heavily as he wrestles the cookie down and finally finishes the bit, but you've got him out the door and you offer a small wave before closing it in his face.

"I hate that kid." You say to Carly as you head back into the kitchen.

"No you don't." She says.

"No, I don't." You shrug. "So, uh…" Realizing you are all alone with Carly brings the text message front and center in your brain once more. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

She frowns at you. "What?"

"You sent me a text this morning saying we needed to talk." You tell her.

Understanding dawns on her face. "Oh, sorry. I meant to send that to Spencer. Your name is right above his on my phone."

"Oh, right." You mumble, crestfallen.

You feel strangely heartbroken at this news. All day you've been elevating this text like it's a message from God, only to find out it was an accident. She doesn't need to talk to you about anything. She hadn't been trying to kiss you yesterday. The holding hands thing was just because she'd felt like the atmosphere between her and you was off and she'd wanted to fix it. Its amazing the kinds of things you can read into someone's actions when you want them to want you because you want them.

You sip your tea, staring at her. You should just tell her and get this over with. She wouldn't be mad, right? How could someone get angry over someone loving them? Even if it's in the wrong way? That would be ludicrous. But that would probably just make things more awkward. She'd probably stop touching you as much, letting you spend the night, letting you stay in the same room with her when she changes clothes. It would all be too awkward for her. Its not like you could blame her, either, because you are thinking dirty things in those situations. Why is this so hard?

"Well, maybe I meant to send it to you, too." She's saying when you finally tune back into the real world.

"What?"

"I said, maybe I meant to send the text to you, too." She rubs her lips together, playing with her straw.

"Oh. So there is something you want to talk about?" Your heart picks up its pace. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe she is picking up on all the vibes you've been sending her. Maybe you won't have to say it.

She shrugs, shaking her head. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, we should be able to talk about anything, right? We're best friends. We tell each other everything, right?"

"Right, totally." You agree, not really paying attention to the words she's saying, but picking out key words in the hopes she might say something pertaining to the night before or the possibility of your lips making contact with hers on this occasion.

"So, uh, when did you start dating Freddie?" She asks, digging her teeth into her bottom lip.

You stare at her, open-mouthed, and wide-eyed. "When did I what?"

"I saw you guys kiss in the hall a couple days ago." She admits. "And you guys walked home holding hands today, I noticed."

"It's not like that!" You protest, but you aren't really sure how you're going to prove it. "I didn't want him to kiss me, he just did! And he saw me walk to school holding hands with you, and he wouldn't get off my case, so I agreed to hold hands with him."

"You can tell me the truth, Sam. I won't get mad, I promise." She says, although she already looks angry.

"I am telling you the truth! Why would I date him when I like-" You pause, deflating and looking her dead in the eye. "You."


	5. Chapter 5

_ "You can tell me the truth, Sam. I won't get mad, I promise." She says, although she already looks angry._

_ "I am telling you the truth! Why would I date him when I like-" You pause, deflating and looking her dead in the eye. "You." _

Carly blinks at you, slow and considerate. "You're not dating him because of our friendship? Sam, nothing will change with us if you want to date Freddie."

"No!" You don't even know how to continue. It really sucks when you tell the person you like that you like them and they take it in another way. Complete dismissal of your feelings.

"No?" Carly repeats, stepping towards you. "Sam, what's going on?"

You rub your lips together digging your teeth into the bottom one. Should you just say it again? Should you just keep saying it until it clicks with her? "Why the hell are you guys doing this to me?" You demand of her.

She stares at you, looking a little stunned. "What?"

"This is why I don't try to make most people happy!" You yell. "Its not worth it!"

You turn to leave, but Carly grabs your hand and holds on. "Don't leave, Sam. Talk to me. I don't know what's going on in your head unless you tell me."

"You want to know what's going on in my head?" You ask her icily.

She nods. "Trust me."

You lick your lips, studying her. Trust her. You should. "Okay." You whisper.

You curl your fingers around her wrist and pull her to you. And then you kiss her. You kiss her because you can't resist anymore, you can't take her misunderstanding your feelings anymore. This is the only way you can think to get it through her head.

She kisses you back, sort of. Her lips are moving against yours, but you think she's probably trying to speak to you, so it probably doesn't count. Your ears are ringing, your eyes are burning, your whole body is on fire. She shouldn't be able to make you feel this way. No one should have this much control on you, but she does.

She tastes like iced tea. That's your last thought before she pulls away.

Her hand goes to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise as she stares at you. You don't know what to say, so you don't say anything at all. You grab your bag and leave the loft.

**XXX**

Your mom made dinner, which is odd. Its probably an apology for hosting a party at eight o' clock in the morning. It's not a very complex meal, or a very tasty one at that, but still. At least she tried.

You jab at your macaroni with your fork, not daring to eat it, but trying to show a little interest.

"Samantha, why do you keep coming home in a bad mood? You're no fun when you're in a bad mood." You mother says, taking a bite of turkey and then spitting it into a napkin.

"I kissed Carly." You tell her straight out, looking up to meet her eyes.

She stares at you for a moment and then nods. "Okay."

"Okay? That's all you can say?" You demand of her, standing. You're, perhaps, a tad bit on edge.

"What else do you want me to say?" She responds calmly. "Did it go over badly? Am I supposed to give advice?"

You go to yell again, but pause and sit back down. "I don't know. _I don't know!_ And that's what's killing me, you know?"

She lowers her eyebrows and frowns at you before shaking her head. "No, don't think I do. What happened exactly?"

"We were arguing because she thought I was dating Freddie and I told her that I wouldn't date him because I like her! So guess what she told me? Guess what she told me, mom!" You yell.

"What did she tell you?" Your mom asks uneasily.

"She told me our friendship was solid if I wanted to date Freddie! She told me not to worry about her!" You throw your hands up in frustration. "Can you believe that?"

"So you kissed her?"

You nod fervently. "Exactly. I thought the only way she was going to get what I was trying to tell her was by showing her that it was her I like."

Your mom frowns, rubbing her lips together and dragging her macaroni around her plate. "Huh."

"Huh?" You repeat.

"Huh."

"Say something!" You snap finally. "I get nothing out of 'huh.'"

"I'm sorry, Sam. I can't think of anything else to say." Your mother shrugs. "Has Carly ever told you she likes girls?"

You frown for a moment before shaking your head. "Not… in so many words."

"And you didn't take my advice to just ask her how she feels?"

"Not… in so many words."

Your mom throws her hands up and sighs. "Why do you want my advice, Samantha? You clearly aren't planning on following it. "

"I'll follow it this time, mom!" You exclaim. "I promise!"

She stares at you for a moment, and then seems to decide you are telling the truth. "Well, okay. I'll give you one more piece of advice, and then I'm out, got it? No more. I'm not putting myself in the middle. I don't want you to blame me if things don't work out."

"I won't blame you!" You protest.

"Sure, you say that now." She takes a deep breath. "You should go back to Carly and make sure she gets that you like her and not Freddie. Make sure she understands that you want to be with her. Say it in uncomplicated words."

You roll your eyes at her. "That's bad advice, there's no way that'd work. I'm trying to succeed here." You stand up and head out of the room. You can picture your mom back in the kitchen pretending to strangle you.

**XXX**

You decide, when you wake up the next morning, not to do anything about Carly. You'll act normal. Not pretend like nothing happened, not ignore her, but just like it doesn't faze you. That's the best way to go about things. Nonchalant. How can there be a nonchalant when there isn't a chalant? Forget it, you need to focus if you're going to act like you don't care.

You head off to school with your stomach in jumbles. How could it not be when yesterday you confessed to being in like with your beloved? And kissed her! A blush scatters across your face. You _kissed_ Carly. Shit. She's going to hate you now. Not only are you a girl, but a girl she's told her darkest secrets to, a girl she's been completely naked in front of. Speaking of which, she looks awesome nude. And now your never going to be that intimate with her ever again!

Your plan would possibly have worked had you not run into her upon showing up at school. The bell ringing is imminent; you'd thought you'd be safe. But no. There she is, leaning into the side of the building, clearly waiting for you. You take several deep breaths and head over to her.

"Morning, Carly." You greet cheerfully.

She frowns at you. "Don't do that, Sam. Don't pretend with me."

"I'm not pretending." You defend quickly. "How else am I supposed to greet my best friend?"

"You kissed me yesterday!" She splutters. You're really glad no one is around.

You stand there completely frozen for a moment. Sure, you were the one that kissed her, and you've been thinking about it all night, but, for some reason, its really shocking to hear her say it.

"True." You say, leaning into the wall next to her.

She eyeballs you for several moments, trying to make up her mind about what to say next. "Were you just trying to even things out?" She finally asks, and you widen your eyes at her, dumbfounded.

"What?"

"Even things out, you know, to prove you aren't with Freddie. You walked to school holding hands with me, so you did the same with him." She explains. "So, since he kissed you, you decided to kiss me to make it even."

You roll your eyes at her, feeling the insanity build back up inside you. "No, woman!" You yell at her, startling both of you. "What kind of freak do you think I am? Who does that?"

"Well!" She yells back, color flooding her cheeks. "I can't think of any other reason why you'd kiss me."

"None? Really?" You run a hand through your hair in disbelief.

She licks her lips, looking you up and down a few times. "So you meant it? You really like me like that?"

You're too angry to be embarrassed. "Duh!" You hear yourself exclaim. "I didn't say it to be funny!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" She yells.

"I don't think I could have said it in any clearer terms!"

"Its not like you've been that clear lately, Sam! First you liked Spencer, then you're making out with Freddie! How was I supposed to know?"

"So you assumed it was a joke? How many people go around professing their love and then go, 'Ha, ha! I got you! Just kidding!'"

"Not many people have their best friend confess to them at all! Sorry if I was surprised!"

"You were surprised? I've only been asking you what you'd do if I had feelings for you for the last week!"

"I thought maybe you were just curious! You ask me weird questions all the time!"

"Weird? How is that a weird question?"

"Well, maybe weird isn't the right word, but still! You know what I mean! I thought maybe since Freddie was accusing you of being in love with me, you got curious about how I'd react if you really were!"

"Well, I really am! What now?"

She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again quickly. You stand about a foot away from her, just staring into her eyes. She doesn't look away, but she also seems to have lost the ability to responds. She rubs her lips together and leans back into the wall.

"Let's go to my loft." She finally says.

"What about school?"

"Its Saturday."

She leads the way back to her loft. You follow after her as your hearts shatters into little bloody pieces of rejection.

**XXX**

Carly is a cruel, cruel person. You don't know why you love her. You don't know how you could ever love someone who makes you do homework on a Saturday afternoon.

"What the hell is this, Sam?" Carly demands of you as she looks over one of your finished homework papers. You are sitting facing each other cross-legged on Carly's bedroom floor. Sun is pouring in through her curtains and yet, she is continuing to hold you hostage inside.

You snag the paper from her, and glare down at it. "What's wrong with it?"

She rips it back out of your hand. "You haven't answered anything! You've just drawn little smiley faces in everything. Well, everything but the trapezoid. That's got evil eyes. What's wrong with the trapezoid?"

You grin at her. "It's a nasty little bastard."

She nods, chuckling. "Of course it is."

She sets down the paper and begins to erase all of your hard work. Of course, this causes her to lean closer in to you and her smell drifts up to you and OMG. So good. You could get high on this shit. Before you really have time to fully indulge, she's sitting back up again.

"You want me to teach you?" She offers.

You shrug. "I guess you'll have to or I'm just going to make all the shapes happy again."

"Its geometry, Sam. Nothing's happy." She grins at you and you smile too broadly for your face.

She scoots close to you to teach. She doesn't realize this leaves you completely incapacitated, so you aren't listening in the slightest. You lean in closer to her, wanting so badly to reach out and curl her hair around her ear, but then you remember. She rejected you.

Your stomach recoils and everything else inside of you goes with it. You can't let yourself get lost in her. She doesn't want you. You need to go back to friend mode. If only it were that easy.

"Carly, could you-" You gesture for her to shift away some, but she doesn't seem to get it, since she moves closer.

"Could I what?" She asks, her expression completely serious.

"Could you move over a little? So we aren't quite so close?" You ask, trying to imply how hard it is right now to be so close to her, but it still doesn't click as she scoots a little closer to you.

"Is that better?" She asks.

You bite your lip. "I meant in the other direction."

"But if I move away, I can't teach."

"If you don't move away, I can't pay attention."

She stares into your eyes for a minute and then smiles, which is the exact opposite of what you were expecting her to do. You try to send her mental waves urging her to shift, but you aren't sure she's receiving them. You lay your head back against the wall behind you.

"Forget it."

"Am I turning you on, Sam?"

You roll your head to the side to look at her. She actually looks like she's enjoying this. Like she enjoys the idea that she can make your body respond so much to her. She places her hand on your leg. You roll you head back to face the other way as a blush hits your cheeks. Electricity is shooting from her hand, up your leg, and distributing through your whole body.

"Stop it." You tell her in a whisper.

"Stop what?" Is her reply and her mouth is right next to your ear now as her hand trails up your leg, but you grab it before it can go anywhere dangerous.

"Stop, really." You mumble. You stand to move away yourself, but you still have a grip on her hand so you end up dragging her up with you. "Sorry." You say, releasing your hold on her.

She shakes her head, holding your gaze. And then you can't look away. You can't break from her as she steps you back into the wall you had just been trying to take some solace from. Her hand drops back to your leg as she leans her body into yours. Everything is on fire. Everything is burning inside of you.

Her mouth touches down on your neck, nibbling at the racing heartbeat there as her hands drift up your shirt. Her fingers feel so cold on your skin, so good, so fucking amazing. Your back curves against the wall, arching you further into her against your will. Her hands slip right up under your bra as if you weren't even wearing one and, as her icy thumbs pass over your nipples, a shiver runs through your body. She pulls back from your neck to trail kisses along your jaw, as if you weren't already lost in her. And then she's kissing you. Her lips press to yours, her tongue slipping between your parted lips to touch the roof of your mouth before dropping down to touch your tongue. You try to kiss her back, but your body feels drained of energy and stuck on an adrenaline rush all at the same time. Her right hand leaves your bra and heads south to undo the button on your pants. You want to stop, but you can't find the strength.

The only thing you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears, your ragged breathing, and the scrape of your zipper as she drags it down echoing in her bedroom. Your hands are slack at your sides. You can't will any part of your body to move for fear of losing her touch. But she doesn't seem to want to stop. Her fingers dance across the top of your underwear and then dip inside and then she's touching you. Holy fucking hell, she's touching you. Pleasure erupts all over your body as you pulse around her fingers. Her mouth becomes more urgent on yours, her free hand more insistent on your chest. You're shaking. You know your shaking and you can't seem to stop. Your eyes flutter open and closed, trying to find that end point, trying to return to calm.

Somehow your arm rediscovers itself and lifts helplessly, your hand running down her side, holding her close. You try to stretch it up to her cheek, but it pauses of its own accord on her left breast and she moans into your mouth and your gone. Your whole body is wracked with wrenching waves of bliss. You convulse in her arms as you ride it out, her fingers continuing to move inside you until your left a shaking mass in her arms.

Her hands retreat back out of your clothes, her tongue out of your mouth. And then it's gone. All the warmth, all the good feelings, gone. And she's staring at you with wide eyes and a surprised expression as your breathing returns to normal and your heart slows down.

"Carly," Your voice sounds raw and broken like some kind of boy in puberty and it sounds so stupid to your own ears.

And she recovers just like that, like you saying her name brought her back to earth. "I think dinner's probably ready. You go on down, I have to go to the bathroom real quick." With that, she turns and heads into the bathroom. You hear the lock click. You straighten your clothes, run a hand through your hair, and head downstairs.

**XXX**

It's after midnight. It's after midnight and Carly is fast asleep in her bed, but you can't sleep. You sit on the couch watching reruns of _I Love Lucy_ wondering if Lucy ever had feelings for her best friend. Wondering what she'd do about them if she did. And then the flashes of earlier flicker through your head and you decide Lucy never had such happenings.

You considered going home. Seriously considered it. You've never not wanted to be at Carly's loft so much. But your mom is out with what's-his-name the Geologist and you don't really want to be alone.

What was Carly thinking doing that to you? Well, okay, thinking back, she didn't exactly reject you; she simply changed the subject, which felt an awful lot like rejection. But earlier, what was that about? You're pretty sure most best friends don't get each other off. A blush creeps up your body at the same time as need flocks to your nether regions. You close your eyes and stretch back on the couch. You've imagined what being with Carly would be like a million times. Your imagination needs to take some lessons from reality.

The only downside to everything is you still don't know what Carly's thinking. Maybe that was pity. Maybe that was curiosity. She never said she loved you back. She never returned your feelings. You aren't together. If she was trying to get you to focus, she took the wrong path. Now all you can think about is her, which really isn't a far cry from your normal mindset.

Your phone buzzes. You flip it over to read the screen. Carly.

"Yeah?" Your voice is shaky, which sucks.

"Come back to bed. I'm cold." Carly rasps.

The need just increased like tenfold. You fall off the couch and hop to standing. "Okay, I'll be there in a second."

Maybe you need to stop overanalyzing things and just let things happen as they will.


	6. Chapter 6

You're in the bathtub. The shiny, white porcelain is cold and heartless against your skin. Your sighs echo around the empty bathroom and flood back into your eardrums on their return. You feel so freaking glum.

It's noon. The sun filters into the bathroom from a single window facing east. You stare blindly at it, not really seeing anything. You feel lost somewhere in your occipital lobe, which doesn't even make sense because you aren't sure what your occipital lobe does.

Shit. Why is she doing this to you? You've asked yourself so many times since "the incident" as you've come to call it. Telling your best friend you are in love with them is awkward enough, why does she have to make things so difficult? You should probably act like its no big deal. Making a big deal would put pressure on her and then she's more likely to turn you down, right? Not that she can turn you down. You haven't actually asked anything of her. You simply told her that you were in love with her. There was no 'be my girlfriend' or 'want to go on a date?' Why didn't you think about that when you were confessing? You should have made some sort of request. Of course, you never said 'do me' and yet… And yet. Why the hell did she do that?

You stretch back in the tub. If you could trade bodies with someone for like five minutes, it would relieve so much stress and you'd be forever grateful.

"Sam," its your mom at the door again. Again, meaning the twenty-third time since you locked yourself in the bathroom an hour ago. It's actually odd that she's trying to reason with you since she's the one who taught you to pick locks.

"Go away!" You yell louder than necessary. "There's nothing you can say that's going to make me leave this bathtub!"

"Samantha, I am done trying to get you out of there." Your mother gives with a sigh. "But you should know that Carly left a message on your phone saying she's coming over now and I'm leaving for my date with Leo in like three minutes."

"Its noon. Who goes on a date at noon?" You shoot back in a grumble.

Your mother sighs again. "It's called a lunch date, my darling. You want me to just leave the door unlocked for Carly?"

"Do what you want."

She scoffs. "Teenagers." You hear her high heels click down the hall and the door open and close.

You trace the faucet with your toes. Great. Carly's coming over. That great. That's just great. You yawn widely and let your eyes slide close. Maybe she'll find you asleep and leave again. Then you won't have to have another awkward conversation with your best friend who likes to diddle you on Saturday afternoons.

A knock resounds through the apartment. You ignore it, your eyes opening again and flicking in the direction of the front door. A couple minutes later, it happens again. Then you hear the door ease open and slide shut again.

"Sam?" Carly's voice calls. You hold as still as possible. Maybe if she doesn't find you in the main parts of the house she'll just leave. "Sam, I know you're home! I ran into your mom downstairs and she said you're pouting in the bathtub!"

Shit. The woman who gave you life is trying to take it from you. Great.

Carly knocks on the bathroom door. "You taught me to pick locks a few months ago, remember? This isn't going to keep me away."

"Shit." You whisper. You should never have taught her to pick locks. Big mistake.

"Although," You hear metal shift in the lock, "this one's a bit too complicated, I think."

You sigh, stretching out of the tub. "Stop screwing with it, I'll let you in." You turn the lock and pull the door open.

Carly has got to be the most beautiful girl you've ever met. Or maybe the fact you're in love with her is making you biased, but screw it. Her hair falls around her face in soft, dark curls. Her eyes are bright and deep with emotions you can't figure out. Her lips, those incredible lips, are slick with gloss. You should kiss her. She's right there. It would be only so easy. Your eyes drop further. A bright yellow shirt and skinny jeans. Those could pose a little obstacle if you were to strip her. Not that you'll be stripping her, but it's always good to be prepared.

"Hi." You whisper, heading back across the bathroom and dropping into the tub.

She follows you a little way in, leaning into the sink. "You want to tell me why you're trying to avoid me?"

"No." is your immediate answer. You glance over at her, but her face is unreadable.

She nods, rubbing her lips together. "What happened? You spent the night, we whiled away the morning watching reruns, and now you have problems with me? I don't understand what happened since Sunday morning."

You shrug. You aren't sure how you remained calm for so long either, or why it's hitting you now, but it is. And you aren't going to get over it that quickly. "Why aren't you at school?"

"Because I don't want to be." She replies. "I'm worried about you."

You nod. "Cool."

"Sam," She rolls her eyes. She strides across the room and climbs into the bathtub, sitting on your lap because she doesn't really have a choice if she's going to be in the tub with you. "Sam, this is ridiculous. Talk to me. Is it just me? Are you avoiding everyone? Is it your mom?"

You stare her down for a few minutes, your eyes dropping to where she is slowly lacing her hands with yours. "Its not my mom." You mutter. "Its not everyone."

She licks her bottom lip. "So its me?"

"Yes."

"What did I do? Let me fix it."

You eyeball her for a few minutes longer. "Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?"

"Sure." She responds automatically. "It's been awhile since we've gone out for sushi."

"Not like that, Carly." You shake your head and roll your eyes.

"Okay, not sushi, then."

You sit up to press your body against hers, invading her personal space to the best of your ability. "Its not sushi I have a problem with."

She stares into your eyes like she's lost and clears her throat. "What is it then?" She mumbles.

"I'm not saying let's go out tonight as friends. I'm saying let's go on a date."

Her eyes never waver from yours, but they go wide and then they go sad. "Sam."

"Carly."

She flushes red, looking away. "A date, Sam?"

You lean back again. "Forget it." Disappointment racks through your body, but you try to keep it off your face.

"No, no, Sam, that's not what I'm saying!" Carly exclaims.

"Then what are you saying?" You say, just as loudly.

"I'm saying you only told me like a couple days ago. Maybe you could give me a chance to digest the information before you ask me something like that?" She explains, her eyes wide.

You frown at her, your eyebrows raised. "Give you a chance to digest? Just yesterday you were getting me-"

She cuts you off with a hand over your mouth. "Just give me a little longer. I'm not saying yes or no. I'm saying I'm not ready to make that decision."

You lick her hand and she pulls it away. "How much longer?"

"I don't know." You go to respond, but she puts her hand back over your mouth. "So don't think about it. I'll tell you when I know. Can't we just have some fun as best friends, please?" You lick her hand again, but she doesn't pull it away. "Just nod or shake your head."

You nod.

**XXX**

Your mom comes homes at a quarter to ten to find you and Carly watching _300_ with a plate of salami, cheese, and pickles between you. You are bored out of your mind, half asleep face tilted to the upper left of the television screen. Carly is fascinated, talking in blurts on and off, staring straight forward. You look up when your mom drops her keys on the kitchen table, shrugs off her jacket, and leans into the doorway of the living room.

"I thought it was a lunch date." You say to her.

She gives you a slow smile. "It was."

"Its after ten." You inform her, pointing at the clock.

"It sure is."

"Are you going out with him again?" You ask.

She shrugs. "Doubt it. He wasn't very interesting."

"Okay." You turn your attention back to the movie.

"Shouldn't you guys go to bed? You have school in the morning." She says to you.

You bob a shoulder. "I guess."

Carly's eyes dart to the clock and the back to the screen. "Its almost over. Almost. Fifteen more minutes."

Your mom waves a hand at you. "Goodnight." She grins and heads down the hall to her bedroom.

You watch Carly for a minute, mostly because you randomly stare at her at odd times. "I think I'm going to bed too. Shut everything down when it's over."

"You aren't going to finish watching this?" She demands of you. "How could you sleep without knowing the end?"

"Very easily."

You get twenty blissful minutes alone in your bed before Carly bursts into your room, changes into her pajamas, and slips beneath the sheets with you. You feel so tired, from all the stressing and stuff, but miraculously wide awake being next to her. She cuddles you, slipping her arm around your waist and snuggling her face into the crook of your neck. Something inside you is going to break. You know it. You can feel it with every slow breath she takes. There's no way you'll sleep if she stays so close to you. That annoying burn low in your abdomen is already lighting.

"Carly?" You whisper, your voice sounding harsh and hoarse to your ears.

She turns her head to respond in your ears, her lips skimming the sides. You're going to die. That's it. That's all there is to it. "Yeah?" She murmurs back.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" You talked about this Saturday before she pushed you against the wall and… yeah. You talked about this. She should know this isn't something you can do with her right now.

"Oh right," she says, pushing herself up with both hands. "Goodnight kiss." And then she's kissing you. Her lips press ever so softly to yours in something you'd almost consider innocent. She drops back down to wiggle further into you. You are so unbelievably turned on you can't even say anything.

It's going to be a long night.

**XXX**

Lips are on yours, bare skin is pressing against your skin, which you realize is quickly becoming naked as someone sheds you of your clothing. Its still dark outside, no light filters into your room, but you can still see her. You can still see Carly hovering over you as she pulls off your shirt in between short kisses.

"Are you awake?" She hisses at you through the dark. It's a quarter after six. You can see the blaringly green numbers on your nightstand.

Your brain is having trouble catching up, like you hit a snag in the material. But somehow you manage to rasp out a "yeah" in a broken, ridiculous voice.

"Good." She drops down to kiss you again, this time pulling your jaw down to open your mouth and dipping her tongue inside for a taste.

You kiss her back almost automatically as you try to figure out the situation. You keep hearing her voice in the back of your head. I_'m saying you only told me like a couple days ago. Maybe you could give me a chance to digest the information before you ask me something like that?_ So why is she stripping off your clothes at six o' clock in the morning while she shoves her tongue down your throat? Going on a date is bad, but sex is okay or something like that?

You're trying to think things through, but her hands smoothing down your stomach are really distracting. Almost as distracting as her mouth working mercilessly on your neck. Light is beginning to sift into the room, outlining her body. Your eyes drink in every curve, every angle, every smooth inch of skin. She's so beautiful. You reach your hands up to run them over everything. Touch everything. She moans into your mouth as you scrape your fingers up the interior of her thigh, pressing her tongue more fervently against yours as if to urge you on. As if you could stop.

You flip her over, pausing with your hand on the outside of her thigh, to press every bit of your body against hers. That's it. That's the feeling you need.

A knock sounds on the door. "Are you guys going to get up soon?" Your mother. What a way to end a mood. "You're going to be late. Its after seven."

You stare down into Carly's eyes, panting hard. She gazes back with half-lidded eyes, but the same intensity underneath. There's no way you can stop.

You press your mouth to hers again, sliding your tongue along her bottom lip to taste her, your hand easing back to the inner part of her thigh. She's grabs your hand midway up and turns her head to the side to break the kiss.

"Come on," She mumbles as she climbs out from underneath you and out of the bed. "We're going to be late if we don't get ready soon."

You remain on all fours in your bed, staring at her completely dumbfounded, but she's pulling on underwear and jeans from her bag, so she must be serious. You get up and get dressed yourself, fighting the heat still circulating your body.

**XXX**

You've decided that bathtubs are especially good places to think. They aren't all that comfortable when devoid of water, so you don't fall asleep. They aren't distracting because they aren't all that interesting to look at. You can just focus and relax. Yes, bathtubs are a great invention.

Your mom slips into the bathroom, sidling up close to the tub and resting her face on the edge. "What's with you and this bathtub lately?" She mumbles.

You shrug. "Seems like a neglected sitting place."

"Hmm…" Is her only reply to that. "Its after six, you hungry?"

You nod. "Well, duh. Don't you know me?"

She smiles. "You want Mexican? I'm feeling a taco."

"Mexican works for me." You nod again.

She leaves you alone for exactly 9.7 minutes to order dinner, than she's back leaning against the tub. "Carly spent the night." She starts with this time.

"Its true, she did." You stare blankly at the window where the sky is just beginning to darken.

Your mom stretches a hand out to brush hair out of your face. "How did you feel about that?"

"Why? Are you adding psychiatrist to your list of motherly duties?" You ask.

She smiles. "It's always been on the list."

You bob a shoulder. "She's my best friend. There's nothing odd about her spending the night."

"Yes." She says.

"Yes." You repeat.

"Did she reject you?" she asks bluntly.

You finally tilt your head to look full on at your mother. "No, but I wish she would. She says to give her time. It's a lot harder to deal with the possibility than with being shot down."

"You still have hope?"

"Well, yeah!" You exclaim. "I can't help but hope. And even if she turns me down, I'll probably still hope she'll change her mind at some point, but at least I'd have an answer."

"Well, I for one am rooting for you." Your mom grins.

You return her grin. "Why? That whole 'I want nothing more than my children to be happy' thing that you always tell Melanie?"

"Are you kidding?" Your mother exclaims. "If you date a girl I don't have to worry about anything! No grandchildren from you right now! No chance!"

You nod. "Its true."

"I don't think you should worry so much. Carly loves you. I think if she would date any girl, it would be you. So, if she turns you down, it's probably because she isn't into girls at all. So at least you have that as some consolation."

There's a knock on the door and your mom lifts up to a stand to go answer it. With a heavy sigh, you climb out of the tub and follow her. You love tacos.

**XXX**

She's looking at you like you have all the answers in the world. Like she's so in love with you that nothing could ever make her unhappy again. Or maybe she's looking at you with a completely pissed off expression because you just dumped a bowl of pudding on Freddie.

"What the hell, Sam!" Carly exclaims, searching for something to clean off Freddie with.

Freddie tries to speak, but it sounds more like grunting since every time he opens his mouth pudding drops in. Why this is a bad thing, you have no idea.

"He was being such a nerd, I couldn't help myself!" You explain, or at least try to. This isn't really true. It was more of a wrong place wrong time situation. You were frustrated, he walked in. You launched pudding at him. Frustration gone. Problem solved.

"You can't just dump pudding on people!" Carly yells back, grabbing the hose from the sink and spraying Freddie with it.

Spencer whistles as he walks back into the main room from the bathroom after returning the toilet water to his favorite state of blue. He pauses, smiles, and then continues into the kitchen.

"What happened?" Spencer asks as he grabs the hose from Carly to have a turn at spraying Freddie, whose already de-pudding-ed and looking resentful.

"I realized how much more appetizing Freddie's company would be if he were covered in pudding." You tell him with a grin.

Carly rediscovers her anger at you for the situation and nabs the hose back from Spencer to spray you down. You stand there and take your punishment. Everyone needs to be sprayed down once in a while. She stops after a minute, watching you as you shove wet hair out of your eyes. Hopefully you look pretty good wet. Her eyes drop and she sighs.

"Sorry, Sam. I shouldn't have sprayed you down. Come on, let's get you a towel." Carly mutters and grabs your hand to lead the way upstairs.

Freddie stares at her, totally nonplussed. "Sorry _Sam_? Aren't I the one who was just covered in pudding and then soaked?"

Spencer shakes his head at him. "First lesson in life, Freddie. Never try to understand girls."

Yeah, you are cold and wet. But on the upside, Carly's fingers are laced with yours and she's dragging you off somewhere where you'll be completely alone and you at least will be taking off your clothes. She shuts the door behind you after you enter her bedroom, a very good sign.

"Strip." She says, fighting an obvious grin. "I'll get you a towel."

You strip fairly shamelessly considering she saw you naked yesterday morning and has felt you up a couple times now. You no longer have anything to hide. "Yes, master."

She smiles at your reply and hands over a light blue towel. "Want to tell me why you _accidentally_ threw a bowl of pudding on Freddie?"

"It wasn't an accident." You say.

She rolls her eyes. "I know that."

"Than why did you say accidentally?"

"I was being sarcastic."

You grin broadly at her. "I know. I was just stalling because you don't want to hear my real reason why."

"Why? You were hoping to end up naked in my room?" She asks.

You shake your head, wishing you could have planned for this. "No, how could I have foreseen you spraying me down?"

"You're psychic?" She offers.

You smile. It feels normal to talk like this with her. Unfortunately, your body is having some very above and beyond friend reactions. You have the towel wrapped tightly around you now, but you were already naked when she walked back from the bathroom. If she had wanted to do something to you, then would have been the time. Apparently she doesn't. Apparently, you're the only one ready for sex at all times.

"I'll get you some clothes." She says and turns to head back into her closet.

You're a little disappointed, to say the least. Its not like she's said she's gay or declared that she wants you, although, she has to be at least bi-curious to do such naughty things to you. But maybe she decided she doesn't really want you like that and yesterday morning was the last time you'll get to touch her. The last time. What a depressing thought.

"I hope these don't look better on you than me," she says as she head out of her closet and drops a few articles of clothing on her bed. "Although, I know they will." She plops down on her bed next to the clothes and looks up at you. "Well, are you going to get dressed?"

You stare at her for a few minutes and then drop you towel, let her look. "You know, you didn't have to come with me. I can find my way around your room and your closet." You tell her as you pull on the shirt she brought out. It matches your underwear. How considerate of her.

"I know," She says, lying back on her bed and stretching a hand up towards the ceiling. "But I wanted to see you naked."


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm cutting her off, I've decided."

Your mom fixes you with a confused expression. "Cutting who off?"

"Carly." You tell her.

"From what?"

You open your mouth to reply, but halt midway because it's kind of an odd thing to tell your mother about. In fact, the only reason you announced that you were cutting her off to her at all is because she happens to be sitting next to you and the idea just flowed through your brain. You close your mouth again and glance at your mom, but she's staring at the television as she downs her spaghetti. She's all dressed up with her hair done all special.

"Are you going somewhere?" You ask her.

She grins as she turns to look at you. "What are you cutting Carly off from?"

"Touché."

Your mom tips the rest of her spaghetti onto your plate and stands. "I hate this TV." She tells you, and then she grabs a samurai sword that you didn't know she had from behind the couch and jams it into the TV

"Mom!" You exclaim, taking the sword from her. You stare at her a little breathlessly for a long moment, and then shove the sword into the television yourself. Then you laugh because destroying technology with swords is fun.

"Are we done here?" She asks, taking the sword from you and placing it back behind the couch.

"I think so." You concede.

"Well, then," She leans in and kisses your cheek. "Guess I'll be going."

You nod and follow her to the door to lock it behind her. You stretch back into the living room to grab your spaghetti before heading into the bathroom and settling in the tub.

It's a good idea. A really good idea. Cutting Carly off, that is. Sort of she has to be with you mentally if she wants to be with you physically kind of deal. Stupid, there's no way you're going to turn her down if and when she wants to touch you again. So you'll just have to stay out of reach. But how long can that work out? Stop spending time at her house? Stop doing iCarly? You can't. Those are some of your favorite activities.

You polish off the last of the spaghetti and set the plate off to the side to find a large splatter of sauce on your shirt. First you try to tackle the problem the obvious way, pulling your shirt up into your mouth and attempting to suck the sauce off. But it doesn't work. This is why you like to eat stuff with sauce shirtless. You pull the shirt up and over your head when your cell phone goes off. You listen to Carly's favorite Cuddlefish song since it's the ringtone you've set for her and continue to wrestle with your shirt. Really, shirts should be more user friendly. Finally, the shirt's off and the phone's in your hand and you click to answer it.

"Yeah?"

"Sam?" Carly yells into your ear from her end.

You jump and turn on the faucet to get the sauce out of your shirt. "Hey, Carls, what's good with taking sauce out of clothing?"

"Sauce?"

"Yeah, like spaghetti sauce." What other sauce is worth talking about? Well, besides gravy. And marinara. And that salad dressing Carly always uses. Okay, screw it. There are plenty of good sauces.

She sighs heavily from her end. "Sam, please tell me you are fully dressed and on your way here and this is just your idea of a joke." Why do you have to be fully dressed in order to be going to her house? Public nudity just doesn't get the kind of respect it used to.

"I am fully dressed and on my way there and this is my idea of a joke." You tell her obediently. "No, seriously. What works on sauce?"

"Sam! We have to start the show in fifteen minutes!" Carly screeches.

"What show?" You ask dumbly.

"iCarly? Ring any bells?" She yells in your ear.

Your stomach backflips. "Oh right, iCarly. Its Friday, isn't it?"

"Sam!"

"Okay, I'm coming! Just let me put on a different shirt and I'll be over!"

You hang up on her. Leaving your messed up shirt in the bathroom and dashing into your bedroom, you pull on a new fresh t-shirt. Cell phone, keys, and jacket, you race out the door. Sometimes Carly can be so pushy.

**XXX**

"You seriously are going to give me an ulcer or a heart attack or something." Carly says to you as she leads the way into the Groovy Smoothie.

You pout at her. "Who, me? Never."

"You didn't even show up tonight until Freddie had already started the countdown!" She accuses while Freddie heads over to the counter to order your smoothies.

"Hey, I already apologized for that!" You yell back.

She rolls her eyes. "Like that makes it okay! You're always late! Maybe not that late, but late still!"

You sit heavily at the nearest table and she follows you down. "I was eating dinner!" And meals are the most important things in the world!

"Oh, so you do have classified meals? I thought you just fed intermittently throughout the day!" Carly exclaims.

You open your mouth to respond and then deflate into a grin. "That might be true. But my point is still valid! I was eating dinner!"

"But you should've been over at least a half an hour before the show started! You could've had something at my loft!" Carly says loudly as Freddie comes back with the smoothies and hands one over to each of you. You and Carly each take a sip, glance at each other, and switch.

"Okay, next week, I'll come home with you Friday to ensure I'll be here not only on time, but early for the show. Satisfied?" You offer, tilting your smoothie at her.

She twists her lips as she considers and you temporarily float back a couple of days, the last time you got to taste her, but quickly jolt back to the present. You shouldn't think about that when you're cutting her off. Right. "Not just the show. You have to be on time for both rehearsals next week."

You open your mouth to protest. "But-"

"No excuses!" She cuts you off.

"Fine." You give. Only because she's so pretty.

"Can I talk now?" Freddie asked insecurely. "Are you guys done arguing?"

"So what if we're not?" You demand of him.

His eyes bug out a little. "Well…"

"Its okay, Freddie," Carly consoles, throwing a glare your way. "If someone wants to know how to get sauce out of her shirt than someone will be nice."

You grin. "Who're you talking about?" You love making her flustered.

She rolls her eyes. "Sam."

"I could Google it, you know." You tell her.

"Please be nice, Sam." She finally pleads.

You shrug and slide an innocent expression onto your face. "Okay, but you owe me."

She stares at you for a long moment, considering what you could be thinking about, but finally turns back to Freddie. "What did you want to say?"

This is your chance. Nice-ness in exchange for what you want. Which is… what again? Freddie glances uneasily at you, then return his attention to Carly. "I was going to say that our hundredth iCarly episode is next week."

Carly grins excitedly at you and you can't help but return it. "Seriously? We need to do something awesome for it."

"No chizz." You say.

Freddie apparently wasn't done. "I was thinking we could do a little behind the scenes action for the hundredth."

"You mean like shooting some of the preparation? Us coming up with ideas, rehearsals, that kind of thing? That could be cool." Carly says.

Freddie flushes red. "Well, no. I was thinking we could show the viewers the tech side of the show. You know, the camera work, the light setup, the-"

"No, Fredward! We aren't doing a tech-geek segment, let alone an entire show. We'd lose all of our audience!" You interject.

Carly glares at you. "Sam! You said you'd be nice."

"I am being nice." You tell her. "Do you want our hundredth to put our viewers to sleep?"

"Well, no." She concedes. "But Freddie might be onto something outside of the tech thing. Doing a behind the scenes show. We could show everyone the process we go through, the trial bits, the rehearsals." She grins as she adds, "Just how much Sam really eats in a week."

You frown. "Oh, come on. There's no way they'll believe it even if they stood next to me every time I fed for an entire week."

"Its true." Freddie nods.

You finish off your smoothie and snag Carly's for a sip. "But you know what the problem is? We can't do a behind the scenes show live, and we always do the show live."

Both Carly's and Freddie's faces fall. "Its true." Freddie mutters again in a lower voice.

"So what can we do for a cool hundredth?" Carly asks.

Struck with a sudden idea, you sit up straighter and smile wide. "What if we broke into someone's house and-"

"No." Carly interrupts. "No, Sam. Nothing dangerous or illegal."

"From space, then." You suggest.

"Impossible." Carly shoots down.

"The White House."

"Nope."

"We could cast a spell making-"

"Also impossible. "

"Then what?" You finally exclaim at her. "You come up with something then!"

"Well…"

"Something explosive." You add, not even giving her the chance to suggest anything.

"We aren't blowing stuff up." Carly says straight-faced.

"I meant like fireworks. " That should have been obvious. Okay, no. You wanted to blow stuff up.

"Still."

Freddie sighs, sitting back and fixing his gaze to include both of you in his line of sight. "We don't have to figure it out now. Let's just take the next few days to consider what would be cool, then have another meeting."

Carly nods. "You're right. We should take some time to think about it." She jabs a finger at you. "You have to be there."

You hold up your hands. "Okay, okay, I'll be there."

You and Carly cross the street to head back up to Carly's loft, Freddie gives a jaunty wave and turns the corner to meet his mom for a yoga class that you barely stopped yourself from making fun of at Carly's request. Lewbert completely ignores you as you cross the lobby to the stairs as silently as possible. His wart has been looking angrier lately. You don't want to wake the beast. You break the silence as soon as you're up a couple of flights.

"You know, you still owe me." You tell Carly with a grin.

"For what?" She asks.

You pout. "You told me to be nice to Freddie and I said okay, but you owe me. Don't you remember?"

"Oh, right."

"Oh, right?" You exclaim back at her.

She smiles. "Oh, come on, Sam. You were not at all nice to Freddie! Not even a little bit. I hardly owe you."

"I think you do." You say in a singsong voice.

She shrugs. "Well, you'll have to get over that."

"Come on, you don't even know how I was going to let you pay me back."

"How, let you raid my refrigerator?"

"I'll only tell you if you agree you owe me."

She pauses on the landing of the fifth floor and leans into the wall to stare at you. "Just tell me, Sam."

"You," You step really, really close to her. "Have to go on a date with me."

She exhales loudly and rolls her eyes. "Come on, Sam. We talked about this."

"No, you decided we weren't going to talk about this. What's it going to hurt, Carly? One date. I'm not asking you to marry me." You insist.

She chews her bottom lip for a few minutes as she stares at you. "Why do you want to go on a date with me so badly?" She finally asks.

"Why?" You repeat. "Because I like you, remember?"

She nods. "So? That doesn't mean things have to change."

"Oh, because you having your way with me when its convenient for you doesn't change anything?" You demand of her.

She doesn't blush like you thought she would. She just stands there, staring into your eyes, searching for something you're sure she isn't going to find in your head. "Does it bother you?" She questions after a long moment.

"No chizz." You roll your eyes, curling your fingers around her arms and pinning her into the wall. "One date."

She looks at you for a moment before squeezing her eyes shut and looking away. You feel your heart crack from the center out and suddenly you want nothing more than to be home curled up in your bathtub. "Sam."

"I'm going to go." You hear your voice say, but you don't know where your vocal cords found the strength to vibrate. You release your grip on her arms and turn.

"Sam." Carly repeats.

You numbly start down the stairs, her voice echoing in your head. Was your request really that much trouble? One date. Just one.

"Okay." Carly calls from a flight of stairs above you. "Okay, one date."

You turn around and jog up to her, pinning her back to the wall once again. "Seriously?"

She nods, looking incredibly uneasy. "Yeah, yes. One date and then you'll stop asking me, right?"

You tilt your head, smirking. "Depends on how the date goes."

**XXX**

You've just finished off your third package of fat cakes with five more in your lap when your mom drifts into the bathroom and startles when she notices you in the tub.

"You have to stop hanging out in here, Sammy. Its weird." She tells you as she slips a bunny ear headband off her head. "Why are you up now, anyway? Its just after five in the morning."

You shrug as you watch her scrub at the bunny nose she colored onto her face. "Couldn't sleep. Why are you just getting home?"

"Oh, you know," she says and you nod, but you really don't know. She drops her hands away from her face and sets the washcloth down, still very much a bunny without its ears. "Well, I'm going to bed. You should too. You got school today?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Its Saturday." It's so typical of your mother not to know what day it is. Actually, it's kind of typical of you too.

"Oh. Don't you usually spend the night at Carly's every Friday after the show?" Your mother asks, stripping off her bunny costume, her skin red and sweaty from the heavy fur.

You nod. "I am. But she didn't have any fat cakes and when I got here to grab some, I noticed my tub looking a little left out, so I decided to have a sit for awhile."

"Right." She bends over the tub and drops a kiss on top of your head. "Lock up when you leave."

"Sure thing."

You climb out of the tub and stuff fat cakes into your pockets as your mom heads down the hallway to her bedroom. You really should be getting back to Carly's loft. She'll notice if you're gone soon. You'd rather be there than here anyway. And now that she's agreed to go on a date with you… Your insides do a happy dance. Guess you don't even have to attempt to cut her off now that you get to go out with her. Wait, where the hell are you going to take Carly Shay for a date?

You stroll down the streets of Seattle, the wallet of some drunken guy in a suit filling your pocket nicely. It's a good morning. You get back to Carly's a little after six, slipping in and locking the door behind yourself. Spencer's on the couch, which is not where you left him, so you stalk over and jab a finger into his shoulder. He jumps and gives a high-pitched, girlish scream. Then he sees its you, so he relaxes, gasping and holding his heart.

"Oh my god, Sam! You shouldn't sneak up on people while they're sleeping!" He exclaims.

"I didn't. I just walked up and poked you." You shrug.

"Well!" He deflates and rubs at his eyes with his hands. "I was having such a good dream, too."

"Finally got over the monster eating you soup?" You ask.

He bobs a shoulder. "I still have it sometimes, just not every night anymore."

"So why are you sleeping on the couch?" You question, sitting on the chair of the couch.

"Can't a grown man sleep on his own couch?" He demands, straightening up to show how manly he is.

You raise your eyebrows at him. "What's wrong with your room?"

"There's something flying around my ceiling." He admits.

You grin at him. "Too easy. I'm going to bed."

He glances at the clock on the wall. "Its six-thirty in the morning."

"So?"

You head up to the second floor and slip back into Carly's room. She's shifted more into the middle of the bed to take up some of the space you abandoned. Her head is on your pillow, her mouth open, her breathing deep. She's so cute. You slip your pajamas back on and slip in next to her, shifting her over a little to make more room for yourself.

"I'm glad you came back."

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of her voice. "What?" You ask way louder than you meant to.

"I thought maybe you weren't comfortable sleeping with me anymore with everything that's been going on." She admits, staring up into your eyes through the dark. "You didn't sleep all night and then you left, so I thought maybe you weren't coming back."

"No, I was hungry." You explain. "For fat cakes, and you didn't have any, so I went home to get some, but I wasn't planning on staying at home, even though I haven't slept all night."

She nods, pulling you down to lie next to her. "Good. I haven't slept either."

You snuggle into her warmth, letting your eyes close and a smile slip onto your face. "I just couldn't sleep. It didn't have anything to do with you." You whisper into her ear, letting the smell of her hair fill your senses.

"Yeah?" She asks with insecurity lacing through her voice.

"Yeah."

Her hand slips under your shirt to rest on your hip, the rest of her body shifting closer to lie partially on top of you. Part of you feels like she might be going somewhere with this, but it isn't long before you hear her breathing even out and you feel her eyes slide close, her eyelashes grazing your skin. Your last thought before sleep overtakes you is something about four-leaf clovers.


	8. Chapter 8

You're realizing that you're kind of a hard person to decide to be with. Especially for someone like Carly Shay, because even though you guys are young, she really is looking for that forever kind of relationship. She doesn't jump into things with the idea that sometime in the future she'll trade up for something better; she enters in with the idea that you are it. And yeah, you have a lot of things against you in that respect because, like a lot of people, she has the American dream. She wants the beautiful family, husband included, with the white picket fence in the suburbs, none of which you can supply. You're female, a thief, you get terrible grades at school, always in detention, and a litany of other things. You're not a basket she can put very many eggs into, and if she tried, you'd probably just eat them.

That's probably her major holdup, you're thinking. She's not sure if you're someone she can be with and rely on forever. It isn't so much that she doesn't love you, or want you in the physical side of things, but that there are so many dreams she'd have to give up if she were to choose you. All of your quirks and faults are a lot easier to accept from a best friend standpoint than from a lover's. Carly Shay, your _lover_. Shiver.

You tip up your cereal bowl and drain the rest into your mouth while Spencer and Carly watch you with expressions between shock/admiration and disgust/disbelief. "How does she do that?" Spencer whispers loudly to Carly. Carly just shakes her head. "I have no idea."

"Its not like there was that much in there!" You exclaim, clanging the now empty bowl loudly against the counter.

"It was like three quarters of the way full!" Carly mutters back to Spencer, her expression nothing short of nonplussed.

He nods slowly, like the mere sight of you captivates him. "You think we'd get a lot of money if we handed her over for scientific experimentation to the government?"

You drop into a karate pose, poised for a fight. "You'll have to take me down first."

"Guess that idea's out the window." Spencer frowns, taking a spoonful from his cereal bowl and letting the contents fall back in with a loud splash. "Unless we hire a team of highly-trained, angry, midget ninjas."

Carly smiles at him. "That'll be easy, I'm always passing teams of highly-trained, angry, midget ninjas looking for work on my way to school."

You stare at them suspiciously. "I'm going to go shower. Don't you dare try to attack me while I'm in there. The last person who tried to bother me in the shower is still in the hospital."

"I'll come with you." Carly says agreeably, like you hadn't just threatened violence.

"Why?" You demand of her, mostly because Spencer is sitting right there, munching away on sugared cereal.

"Well, you've been here since the day before yesterday and you've been wearing that outfit pretty much the whole time, so I'm going to use the goodness within my heart and let you borrow some of my clothes while I wash those." She explains, placing your bowl in the sink and wiping the counter down where you had consumed your breakfast in two gulps.

You raise your eyebrows at her. "Oh. Well, I suppose that sounds reasonable, yes."

Carly follows you up the stairs and into her bedroom. You slip into the bathroom and wait for her to follow you in, but she doesn't. So you shrug, strip and wrap a towel around yourself before heading back out to hand her the clothes.

"You know, I don't think washing of clothes is usually listed under duties of a best friend." You say jovially to her.

She grins. "It is under 'duties of Sam's best friend'."

"You take such good care of me." You say sweetly, chucking her on the chin. "Perhaps a reward for your effort?"

"A cookie?" She asks, bundling your clothes in her arms.

"I was thinking something in the room."

"Its my room, what could you reward me with in here?"

You drop your hands and roll your eyes. "Me."

"Oh," she nods. "No thanks."

You squint at her. "No thanks?" You repeat.

"Yeah, we go on a date in five days, remember? Wouldn't want you thinking I'm easy." She winks at you and walks out of the room.

You stare after her with an amused expression. You've raised her well.

**XXX**

Why do people insist on hiding things like rags, blankets, and regular colorful towels? It's insane. When you spill your juice, you'd like to have _something_ in reach, otherwise Carly will get mad at you. And your life isn't so great when Carly's mad at you.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" You dig under the sink, continuing to search even though Carly's caught you in the act.

"Why are you walking around in just a t-shirt and underwear?" She asks, sitting down in a stool to watch you.

"I spilled juice on my pants."

"So you took them off?"

"Yeah."

"You do remember you're at my house, right?"

"Yeah, cupcake."

"Okay, just making sure I have all the facts. But really, you should put something on or Spencer's going to see you and you don't want him to pass out like last time, do you?"

You pause, popping back up to your feet to grin innocently at Carly. "Actually…"

"Sam."

"Okay, I'll go put some pants on."

She follows you up into her bedroom, closing the door softly and leaning against it. "So…"

You search through her clothes, trying to find the perfect pair of pants for such a day as this. "So?"

You turn to watch her dig her teeth into her bottom lip, keeping her eyes firmly on the carpet. "So, where are you taking me on our date?"

You pop a hip to the side and grin jovially at her. "Look who's taking an interest in our romantic relationship!"

"Pssh!" She laughs, finally looking at you. "Romantic, my ass!"

"Hey!" You exclaim back. "I can be romantic!"

"You're about as romantic as that cat stuck in the wall downstairs." She tells you, coming back to her full height and striding over to help you find pants.

"Its still stuck there?" You question before shaking your head and getting back to the point. "How would you even _know_ whether or not I'm romantic? You don't even like me like that!"

She freezes mid-laugh and clears her throat. "Right…" She pulls a pair of pants down and shoves them into your arms. "Why would I agree to go on a date with you if I didn't?" She pauses at the door to give you one of those final, fleeting looks that you've never been able to translate, and then leaves you to pull the pants on.

**XXX**

"Haven't seen you in awhile, kiddo." Your mother says, sighing as you climb into the bathtub with her. She sits up and wraps her arms around you, her many bracelets clanking loudly in the tiled bathroom.

You lean back into her, chewing your bottom lip. "Carly says she's interested in me." You say straight off.

"She actually said it? With words?"

"No, she said it through interpretive dance!" You snap. "Of course with words."

"Well, you never know."

"We're going on a date Friday."

Your mom nods into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm happy for you, Sammy."

"You don't sound happy. You sound melancholy."

"Well, I've got some problems of my own."

You rip yourself back out of her arms, flipping around to stare her in the face. "What problems?"

"Oh, nothing major." She winces.

"Mom…"

"Just, just don't answer the door if the cops come knocking."

"Mom!"

"It's really nothing, I promise. Just a misdemeanor. I think."

"Were you armed?"  
"No."

"Then yeah, just a misdemeanor."

She smiles brightly at you. "Well, excellent. I'm going to go to bed then. I was kind of worried there for a moment."

She climbs out from behind you and you watch her go with annoyance coursing through you. Its one thing for you to do bad things, when she does there could actually be a problem. What would you do if she was arrested and locked up? Go live with one of your other psycho relatives? Stay with Carly? No. You'd go insane staying with Carly. It's tough to be in a constant state of horny.

You sigh and recline back into the tub. Guess this is an okay place to wait for the cops.

**XXX**

It's after ten when your phone rings and you startle awake, still in the bathtub. You hit your head against the lip of the tub and curse it in German as you check the name on your phone. Carly. You should give her her own special ringtone. But what song fits her?

You flip it open and press the phone to your ear. "Yeah, cupcake?"

"You want to go grab smoothies with me?" She whispers into the phone and you grin.

"Shouldn't you be going to bed? We have school tomorrow." You say, strangely responsible and considerate.

She sighs. "I know, but…"

"But what?"  
"I just really want to see your face."

Your stomach twirls, knocking into your heart and making it pick up its pace. "Really?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I… can't, actually." You slam the palm of your hand into your forehead. "I'm waiting for the cops to come looking for my mom."

"What?" She exclaims. "Why?"

"She's done something illegal, I'd assume."

"Are you sitting in the bathtub?"

You glance around. "Holy shit! Can you see me?"

She laughs. "How could I be able to see you?"

"I don't know, in like your mind's eye or something? Maybe you own a crystal ball I didn't know about."

"You know, that's precisely what I'm doing: just gazing into my crystal ball at you sitting in the bathtub."

"Weird."

"Yeah. So maybe I could bring smoothies and come wait with you?"

You lick your lips. "I was just at your house this morning."

"Is that a no?"

"Do I ever say 'no' to you?"

"I'll be over in twenty minutes."

You do a lot of strange things in those twenty minutes. You fill your mom's shoes with pudding, which you make first, banana cream. Then you make a cup of tea, orange pekoe. Next is stripping all of the blankets and sheets off your bed and remaking it. Following that, you return to the bathroom, tap dance for approximately 3.8 minutes, handstand until your vision gets blurry, brush your teeth twice, and finally relax back into the cold porcelain just as Carly opens the bathroom door and strolls in with two smoothies in tow. She hands over your smoothie and you down it in one go. Then you freak out with odd facial expressions and weird hand gestures in an attempt to combat the brain freeze consequence. She just laughs and climbs into the tub to sit with you.

"I didn't miss the action, did I? The cops haven't showed up yet?" She questions, leaning awkwardly off to the side of the faucet and pretending like she's comfortable.

You shake your head. "Not yet. I'm not even sure if they will. You know how my mom is."

She nods, sipping her smoothie. "Well, its nice of you to deal with them for her."

"Come on, we both know I'm not doing this for her."

Carly bobs her head again. "Yeah."

You watch her drink her smoothie for a long couple of minutes before sitting up straight and digging your teeth into your lip. "So, you happy now? Now that you are seeing my face?"

She smiles. "Yeah."

"Is that really all there was to coming over tonight? Or are you avoiding something back home?"

She shakes her head, exhales loudly, shrugs, and shakes her head again, before finally nodding. "Well, maybe not the _only_ reason."

"What goes on?"

She repeats the same exact sequence a couple more times. "Spencer has this new girlfriend and she seems… I don't know… strange, even next to someone like Spencer. I just have a bad feeling about her. And my dad called a couple of hours ago. You know what's sad? Every time he calls I'm surprised he still remembers my name. Then next Tuesday is the ten year anniversary of my mom's…" She nods, blinking fast.

You stare at her for a long moment. This feels like the most normal conversation you've had with her in a while. Carly and you have been doing this sort of thing for as far back as you can remember, just lying your problems out flat without any pretenses or blushing or trying to smooth over and cover stuff up. Just pure and simple honestly. Only, things are usually the other way around with your head finally exploding and you running off to Carly's to just blurt everything that's wrong in your life out to her.

You take her smoothie from her, sneak a sip, and set it outside the tub as she blinks her big brown eyes at you, tears shining on their surface. It doesn't take much effort to pull her across the tub and flatten her body against yours as you curl your arms around her and hold on tight.

"There's nothing I can do about your dad." You start off, whispering into her ear, feeling the wetness of her tears soaking into your shirt. "But I can sabotage Spencer's relationship with this new girlfriend you don't like. And I can go with you to visit your mom's grave next week."

She nods, holding onto you even tighter. You let her; even though you're having trouble breathing now and you're starting to sweat under the press of her hot skin. You let her because you will probably never be able to deny her anything.

She pulls back just when you are on the verge of passing out. Her eyes glisten, her cheeks are red, her eyes puffy, and all you can think about is how adorable she looks. She gives you a soft smile, reaching a hand out to slide her fingers down your cheek and into one of the many blonde curls swirling around your face. Carly leans forward slowly, holding your eyes the whole time, probably trying to get you to see some message in hers that she should know by now you will not understand. Your eyes fall shut and she presses her lips against the corner of your mouth, your bottom lip. She toys with it for a second between her teeth, jolts of electricity shooting violently through your system, and then her whole body relaxes into yours and you pull her tight against you, capturing her lips.

You lose all concept of time as she leans into you, kissing you so delicately like she thinks you're some kind of glass or porcelain doll that might just crack and shatter. You lace your fingers into her hair, inhaling her scent, tasting her flavor mixed with strawberry smoothie on her tongue, feeling the softness that only a girl's lips has against yours. And the moment feels perfect, is perfect. For once, everything feels perfect. It's okay that you're waiting for the cops to come after your mom. Its okay that she came over out of sadness and now you've promised to help break up her brother and his new girlfriend and go see her mother's grave with her next week. None of that matters in this moment. It's just you and her and the sensory overload she's putting you through.

A fist pounds hard into the front door, "Police!" accompanying it. Your eyes flash open and stare into Carly's for a long moment as she drags her tongue back over yours. You feel drunk on her taste, high on her smell, lost in that bit of whatever that seems to be holding you connected to her, and yet, somehow, you still find the energy to pull away and climb out of the tub to go answer the door. She smiles softly at you, watching you walk away, and you want to say something to express everything that's going on in your head before you let the cops in and everything is ruined, but words would ruin the moment and you both know it. You jog back over to her and press your lips against hers one last time before turning back around and heading for the door.

"Yeah, yeah, quit your yapping, I'm coming!"


End file.
